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L161— 0-1096 


HARRY  LORREQUER 


BY 

CHARLES  LEVER 


NEW  YORK 

HURST  & COMPANY 
Publishers 


PREFATORY  EPISTLE. 


Dear  Public, — When  I first  set  about  recording  the  scenes 
which  occupy  these  pages,  I had  no  intention  of  con- 
tinuing  them,  except  in  such  stray  and  scattered  fragments 
as  the  columns  of  a Magazine*  permit  of ; and  when,  at 
length,  I discovered  that  some  interest  had  attached  not 
only  to  the  adventures,  but  to  the  narrator,  I would  gladly 
have  retired  with  my  “ little  laurels  ” from  a stage,  on  which, 
having  only  engaged  to  appear  betrween  the  acts,  I was 
destined  to  come  forward  as  a principal  character. 

Among  the  “ miseries  of  human  life  ” a most  touching  one 
is  spoken  of — the  being  obliged  to  listen  to  the  repetition 
of  a badly  sung  song,  because  some  well-wishing,  but  not 
over-discreet  friend  of  the  singer  has  called  loudly  for  an 
encore . 

I begin  very  much  to  fear  that  something  of  the  kind  has 
taken  place  here,  and  that  I should  have  acted  a wiser  part, 
had  I been  contented  with  even  the  still  small  voice  of  a few 
partial  friends,  and  retired  from  the  boards  in  the  pleasing 
delusion  of  success  ; but,  unfortunately,  the  same  easy  tem- 
perament that  has  so  often  involved  me  before,  has  been  faith- 
ful to  me  here;  and  when  you  pretended  to  be  pleased, 
unluckily  I believed  you. 

So  much  of  apology  for  the  matter — a little  now  for  the 
manner  of  my  offending,  and  I have  done.  I wrote  as  I felt 


*The  Dublin  University  Magazine. 


5 


PR  ERA  TOR  V FITS  TLE . - 


- — sometimes  in  good  spirits,  sometimes  in  bad — always 
carelessly — for,  God  help  me,  I can  do  no  better. 

When  the  celibacy  of  the  Fellows  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  became  an  active  law  in  that  University,  the  Board 
proceeded  to  enforce  it,  by  summoning  to  their  presence  all 
the  individuals  who,  it  was  well  known,  had  transgressed  the 
regulation,  and  among  them  figured  Dr.  S.,  many  of  whose 
sons  were  at  the  same  time  students  in  the  college.  “ Are 
you  married,  Dr.  S — r?”  said  the  bachelor  vice-provost, 
in  all  the  dignity  and  pride  of  conscious  innocence.  “ Mar- 
ried ? ” said  the  father  of  ten  children,  with  a start  of  invol- 
untary horror—' “ married  ? ” “ Yes,  sir,  married.  ” “Why, 

sir,  I am  no  more  married  than  the  provost.”  This  was 
quite  enough — no  further  questions  were  asked,  and 
the  head  of  the  University  preferred  a merciful  course 
towards  the  offender,  to  repudiating  his  wife  and  disowning 
his  children.  Now  for  the  application.  Certain  captious 
and  incredulous  people  have  doubted  the  veracity  of  the 
adventures  I have  recorded  in  these  pages ; I do  not  think 
it  necessary  to  appeal  to  the  concurrent  testimony  and  cred- 
ible witnesses  for  their  proof;  but  I pledge  myself  to  the 
fact  that  every  tittle  I have  related  is  as  true  as  that  ntv 
name  is  Lorrequer — need  I say  more  ? 

Another  objection  has  been  made  to  my  narrative,  and  I 
cannot  pass  it  by  without  a word  of  remark : “ These  confes- 
sions are  wanting  in  scenes  of  touching  and  pathetic  inter- 
est.” True,  quite  true,  but  I console  myself  on  this  head, 
for  I remember  hearing  of  an  author  whose  paraphrase 
of  the  book  of  Job  was  refused  by  a publisher,  if  he  could 
not  throw  a little  more  humor  into  it ; and  if  I have  not  been 
more  miserable  and  more  unhappy,  I am  very  sorry  for  it  on 
your  account,  but  you  must  excuse  my  regretting  it  on  my 
own . Another  story,  and  I have  done.  The  Newgate  Cal- 
endar makes  mention  of  a notorious  housebreaker,  who 
closed  his  career  of  outrage  and  violence  by  the  murder  of  a 


PREFA  TOR  V EPISTLE.  7 

tfhole  family,  whose  house  he  robbed ; on  the  scaffold  he 
entreated  permission  to  speak  a few  words  to  the  crowd 
beneath,  and  thus  addressed  them  : “ My  friends,  it  is  quite 
true  I murdered  this  family ; in  cold  blood  I did  it — one  by 
one  they  fell  beneath  my  hand,  while  I rifled  their  coffers,  and 
took  forth  their  effects  ; but  one  thing  is  imputed  to  me, 
which  I cannot  die  without  denying : it  is  asserted  that  I 
stole  an  extinguisher ; the  contemptible  character  of  this  petty 
theft  is  a stain  upon  my  reputation  that  I cannot  suffer  to  dis- 
grace  my  memory.”  So  would  I now  address  you  for  all 
the  graver  offenses  of  my  book.  I stand  forth  guilty — mis- 
erably, palpably  guilty — they  are  mine,  every  one  of  them, 
and  I dare  not,  cannot  deny  them ; but  if  you  think  that 
the  blunders  in  French  and  the  hash  of  spelling,  so  widely 
spread  through  these  pages,  are  attributable  to  me,  on  the 
faith  of  a gentleman  I pledge  myself  you  are  wrong,  and 
that  I had  nothing  to  do  with  them.  If  my  thanks  for  the  kind- 
ness and  indulgence  with  which  these  hastily  written  and 
rashly  conceived  sketches  have  been  received  by  the  press 
and  the  public,  are  of  any  avail,  let  me  add,  in  conclusion, 
that  a more  grateful  author  does  not  exist  than 

Harry  Lorrequbr, 


HARRY  LORREQUER 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  was  on  a splendid  morning  in  the  autumn  of  the  year 
181 — that  the  Howard  transport,  with  four  hundred  of  his 
Majesty’s  4-th  Regiment  dropped  anchor  in  the  beautiful 
harbor  of  Cove ; the  sea  shone  under  the  purple  light  of  the 
rising  sun  with  a rich  rosy  hue,  beautifully  in  contrast  with 
the  different  tints  of  the  foliage  of  the  deep  woods  already 
tinged  with  the  brown  of  autumn.  Spike  Island  lay  “ sleep- 
ing upon  its  broad  shadow/'*  and  the  large  ensign  which 
crowns  the  battery  was  wrapped  around  the  flagstaff,  there 
not  being  even  air  enough  to  stir  it.  It  was  still  so  early, 
that  but  few  persons  were  abroad  ; and  as  we  leaned  over 
the  bulwarks,  and  looked  now,  for  the  first  time  for  eight 
long  years,  upon  British  ground,  many  an  eye  filled,  and 
many  a heaving  breast  told  how  full  of  recollections  that 
short  moment  was,  and  how  different  our  feelings  from  the 
gay  buoyancy  with  which  we  had  sailed  from  that  same  har- 
bor for  the  Peninsula ; many  of  our  best  and  bravest  had  we 
left  behind  us,  and  more  than  one  native  to  the  land  we 
were  approaching  had  found  his  last  rest  in  the  soil  of  the 
stranger.  It  was,  then,  with  a mingled  sense  of  pain  and 
pleasure  we  gazed  upon  that  peaceful  little  village,  whose 
white  cottages  lay  dotted  along  the  edge  of  the  harbor.  The 
moody  silence  our  thoughts  had  shed  over  us  was  soon 
broken  : the  preparations  for  disembarking  had  begun,  and  I 
recollect  well  to  this  hour  how,  shaking  off  the  load  that  op- 


12 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


pressed  my  heart,  I descended  the  gangway,  humming  poor 
Wolfe’s  well-known  song : 

“ Why,  soldiers,  why, 

Should  we  be  melancholy,  boys  ? ’* 

And  to  this  elasticity  of  spirits — whether  the  result  of  my 
profession,  or  the  gift  of  God — as  Dogberry  has  it — I know 
not — I owe  the  greater  portion  of  the  happiness  I have 
joyed  in  a life  whose  changes  and  vicissitudes  have  equalled 
most  men’s. 

Drawn  up  in  line  along  the  shore,  I could  scarce  refrain 
from  a smile  at  our  appearance.  Four  weeks  on  board  a 
transport  will  certainly  not  contribute  much  to  the  personnel 
of  any  unfortunate  therein  confined  ; but  when,  in  addition 
to  this,  you  take  into  account  that  we  had  not  received  new 
clothes  for  three  years — if  I except  caps  for  our  grenadiers, 
originally  intended  for  a Scotch  regiment,  but  found  to  be 
too  small  for  the  long-headed  generation.  Many  a patch  of 
brown  and  gray  variegated  the  faded  scarlet  “ of  our  uni- 
form,” and  scarcely  a pair  of  knees  in  the  entire  regiment 
did  not  confess  their  obligations  to  a blanket.  But  with  all 
this,  we  showed  a stout,  weather-beaten  front,  that,  disposed 
as  the  passer-by  might  feel  to  laugh  at  our  expense,  very 
little  caution  would  teach  him  it  was  fully  as  safe  to  indulge 
it  in  his  sleeve. 

The  bells  from  every  steeple  and  tower  rung  gayly  out  a 
peal  of  welcome,  as  we  marched  into  “ that  beautiful  city 
called  Cork,”  our  band  playing  “ Garryowen  ” — for  we  had 
been  originally  raised  in  Ireland,  and  Still  among  our  officers 
maintained  a strong  majority  from  that  land  of  punch, 
priests,  and  potatoes — the  tattered  flag  of  the  regiment 
proudly  waving  over  our  heads,  and  not  a man  amongst  us 
whose  warm  heart  did  not  bound  behind  a Waterloo  medal, 
IV ell — well ! I am  now — alas!  that  I should  say  it — some- 
what in  the  “ sear  and  yellow ; ” and  I confess,  after  the  ex- 
perience of  some  moments  of  high,  triumphant  feeling,  that 
I never  before  felt  within  me  the  same  animating,  spirit-fill- 
ing glow  of  delight  as  rose  within  my  heart  that  day,  as  I 
marched  at  the  head  of  my  company  down  George’s  street. 

We  were  soon  settled  in  barracks  ; and  then  began  a series 
of  entertainments  on  the  side  of  the  civic  dignitaries  of  Cork, 
which  soon  led  most  of  us  to  believe  that  we  had  only  es« 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 

Caped  shot  and  shell  to  fall  less  gloriously  beneath  cham- 
pagne and  claret.  I\do  not  believe  there  is  a coroner  in  the 
island  who  would  have  pronounced  but  the  one  verdict  over 
the  regiment — “ Killed  by  the  mayor  and  corporation,”  had 
we  so  fallen. 

First  of  all,  we  were  dined  by  the  citizens  of  Cork — and, 
to  do  them  justice,  a harder  drinking  set  of  gentlemen  no 
city  need  boast ; then  we  were  feasted  by  the  corporation  ; 
then  by  the  sheriffs  ; then  came  the  mayor,  solus  ; then-  an 
address,  with  a cold  collation,  that  left  eight  of  us  on  the 
sick-list  for  a fortnight ; but  the  climax  of  all  was  a grand 
entertainment  given  in  the  mansion  house,  and  to  which  up- 
wards of  two  thousand  were  invited.  It  was  a species  of 
fancy  ball,  beginning  by  a dejeuner  at  three  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  ending — I never  yet  met  the  man  who  could 
tell  when  it  ended ; as  for  myself,  my  finale  partook  a little 
of  the  adventurous,  and  I may  as  well  relate  it. 

After  waltzing  for  about  an  hour  with  one  of  the  prettiest 
girls  I ever  set  eyes  upon,  and  getting  a tender  squeeze  of 
the  hand,  as  I restored  her  to  a most  affable-looking  old  lady 
in  a blue  turban  and  a red  velvet  gdwn,  who  smiled 
most  benignly  on  me,  and  called  me  “ Meejor ,”  I retired  to 
recruit  for  a new  attack,  to  a small  table,  where  three  of  ours 
were  quaffing  “ ponche  a la  Romaine  ,”  with  a crowd  of  Cor- 
kagians  about  them,  eagerly  inquiring  after  some  heroes  of 
their  own  city,  whose  deeds  of  arms  they  were  surprised  did 
not  obtain  special  mention  from  “the  Duke,”  I soon  ingra- 
tiated myself  into  this  well-occupied  clique  and  dosed  them 
with  glory  to  their  hearts’  content.  I resolved  at  once  to 
enter  into  their  humor ; and  as  the  “ ponche  ” mounted  up 
to  my  brain,  I gradually  found  my  acquaintanceship  ex- 
tended to  every  family  and  connection  in  the  country. 

“ Did  ye  know  Phil  Beamish  of  the  3-th,  sir  ? ” said  a tall 
red-faced,  red-whiskered,  well-looking  gentleman,  who  bore 
no  slight  resemblance  to  Feargus  O’Connor. 

“ Phil  Beamish  ! ” said  I.  “ Indeed  I did,  sir,  and  do 
still ; and  there  is  not  a man  in  the  British  army  I am  prouder 
of  knowing.”  Here,  by  the  way,  I may  mention  that  I never 
heard  the  name  till  that  moment. 

“ You  don’t  say  so,  sir,”  said  Feargus — for  so  I must  call 
him,  for  shortness’  sake.  “ Has  he  any  chance  of  the  com- 
pany yet,  sir  ? ” 

“ Company  ! ” said  I,  in  astonishment.  “ Pie  obtained  his 


u 


BARR  Y LORREQURR. 


majority  three  months  since.  You  cannot  possibly  have 
heard  from  him  lately,  or  you  would  have  known  that  ? ” 

“ That’s  true,  sir.  I never  heard  since  he  quitted  the  3-th 
to  go  to  Versailles,  I think  they  call  it,  for  his  health.  But 
how  did  he  get  the  step,  sir  ? ” 

“ Why,  as  to  the  company,  that  was  remarkable  enough  ! ” 
said  I,  quaffing  off  a tumbler  of  champagne,  to  assist  my 
invention.  44  You  know  it  was  about  four  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  18th  that  Napoleon  ordered  Grouchy  to  ad- 
vance with  the  first  and  second  brigade  of  the  Old  Guard 
and  two  regiments  of  chasseurs,  and  attack  the  position  oc- 
cupied by  Picton  and  the  regiments  under  his  command* 
Well,  sir,  on  they  came,  masked  by  the  smoke  of  a terrific 
discharge  of  artillery,  stationed  on  a small  eminence  to  our 
left,  and  which  did  tremendous  execution  among  our  poor 
fellows — on  they  came,  sir  ; and  as  the  smoke  cleared  par- 
tially away  we  got  a glimpse  of  them,  and  a more  dangerous 
looking  set  I should  not  desire  to  see  : grizzle-bearded,  hard- 
featured,  bronzed  fellows,  about  five-and-thirty  or  forty  years 
of  age ; their  beauty  not  a whit  improved  by  the  red  glare 
thrown  upon  their  faces  and  along  the  whole  line  by  each 
flash  of  the  long  twenty-fours  that  were  playing  away  to  the 
right.  Just  at  this  moment  Picton  rode  down  the  line  with 
his  staff,  and  stopping  within  a few  paces  of  me,  said  : 
4 They’re  coming  up  ; steady,  boys  ; steady  now  ; we  shall 
have  something  to  do  soon.’  And  then,  turning  round,  he 
looked  in  the  direction  of  the  French  battery,  that  was 
thundering  away  again  in  full  force.  4 Ah,  that  must  be 
silenced,’  said  he.  4 Where’s  Beamish  ? ’ ” — 44  Says  Picton  ! ” 
interrupted  Feargus,  his  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets, 
and  his  mouth  growing  wider  every  moment,  as  he  listened 
with  the  most  intense  interest.  44  Yes,”  said  I,  slowly  ; and 
then,  with  all  the  provoking  nonchalance  of  an  Italian  im- 
provisatore,  who  always  halts  at  the  most  exciting  point  of 
his  narrative,  I begged  a listener  near  me  to  fill  my  glass 
from  the  iced  punch  beside  him.  Not  a sound  was  heard 
as  I lifted  the  bumper  to  my  lips ; all  were  breathless  in 
their  wound-up  anxiety  to  hear  of  their  countryman  who  had 
been  selected  by  Picton — for  what,  too,  they  knew  not  yet, 
and,  indeed,  at  this  instant  I did  not  know  myself,  and 
nearly  laughed  outright,  for  the  two  of  ours  who  had  remained 
at  the  table  had  so  well  employed  their  interval  of  ease  as  to 
become  very  pleasantly  drunk,  and  were  listening  to  my  com 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 15 

founded  story  with  all  the  gravity  and  seriousness  in  the 
world. 

“ ‘ Where’s  Beamish  ? ’ said  Picton.  * Here,  sir/  said  Phil, 
stepping  out  from  the  line,  and  touching  his  cap  to  the  gen- 
eral, who,  taking  him  apart  for  a few  minutes,  spoke  to  him 
with  great  animation.  We  did  not  know  what  he  said  ; but 
before  five  minutes  were  over,  there  was  Phil  with  three  com- 
panies of  light  bobs  drawn  up  at  our  left ! their  muskets  at 
the  charge,  they  set  off  at  a round  trot  down  the  little  steep 
which  closed  our  flank.  We  had  not  much  time  to  follow 
their  movements,  for  our  own  amusement  began  soon  ; but 
[ well  remember,  after  repelling  the  French  attack,  and 
standing  in  square  against  two  heavy  charges  of  cuirassiers, 
the  first  thing  I saw  where  the  French  battery  had  stood,  was 
Phil  Beamish  and  about  a handful  of  brave  fellows,  all  that 
remained  from  the  skirmish.  He  captured  two  of  the 
enemy’s  field-pieces,  and  was  6 Captain  Beamish’  on  the  day 
after.” 

“ Long  life  to  him  ! ” said  at  least  a dozen  voices  behind 
and  about  me,  while  a general  clanking  of  decanters  and 
smacking  of  lips  betokened  that  Phil’s  health  with  all  the 
honors  was  being  celebrated.  For  myself,  I was  really  so 
engrossed  by  my  narrative,  and  so  excited  by  the  “ ponche,” 
that  I saw  or  heard  very  little  of  what  was  passing  around, 
and  have  only  a kind  of  dim  recollection  of  being  seized  by 
the  hand  by  “ Feargus,”  who  was  Beamish’s  brother,  and 
who,  in  the  fullness  of  his  heart,  would  have  hugged  me  to 
his  breast,  if  I had  not  opportunely  been  so  overpowered 
as  to  fall  senseless  under  the  table. 

When  I first  returned  to  consciousness,  I found  myself 
lying  exactly  where  I had  fallen.  Around  me  lay  heaps  of 
slain — the  two  of  “ ours  ” amongst  the  number.  , One  of  them 
— I remember  he  was  the  adjutant — held  in  his  hand  a wax 
candle  (three  to  the  pound).  Whether  he  had  himself  seized 
it  in  the  enthusiasm  of  my  narrative  of  flood  and  field,  or  it 
had  been  put  there  by  another,  I know  not,  but  he  certainly 
cut  a droll  figure.  The  room  we  were  in  was  a small  one  off 
the  great  saloon,  and  through  the  half-open  folding-door  I 
could  clearly  perceive  that  the  festivities  were  still  continued. 
The  crash  of  fiddles  and  French  horns,  and  the  tramp  of 
feet,  which  had  lost  much  of  their  elasticity  since  the  enter* 
tainments  began,  rang  through  my  ears,  mingled  with  the 
sounds  “ down  the  middle,”  “ hands  across,”  “ here's  your 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


l6 

partner,  captain,”  What  hour  of  the  night  or  morning  it  then 
was,  I could  not  guess;  but  certainly  the  vigor  of  the  par:? 
seemed  little  abated,  if  I might  judge  from  the  specimen  be- 
fore me,  and  the  testimony  of  a short  plethoric  gentleman, 
who  stood  wiping  his  bald  head,  after  conducting  his  partner 
down  twenty-eight  couples,  and  who,  turning  to  his  friend, 
said,  44  Oh,  the  distance  is  nothing,  but  it  is  the  pace  that 
kills.” 

The  first  anxiety  I showed  of  any  return  to  reason,  was  a 
strong  anxiety  to  be  at  my  quarters ; but  how  to  get  there  I 
knew  not.  The  faint  glimmering  of  sense  I possessed  told 
me  that  “ to  stand  was  to  fall,”  and  I was  ashamed  to  go  on 
all-fours,  which  prudence  suggested. 

At  this  moment  I remembered  I had  brought  with  me  my 
cane,  which,  from  a perhaps  pardonable  vanity,  I was  fond 
of  parading.  It  was  a present  from  the  officers  of  my  regi- 
ment— many  of  them,  alas,  since  dead — and  had  a most 
splendid  gold  head,  with  a stag  at  the  top — the  arms  of  the 
regiment.  This  I would  not  have  lost  for  any  consideration 
I can  mention ; and  this  now  was  gone  ? I looked  around 
me  on  every  side ; I groped  beneath  the  table  ; I turned 
the  sleeping  sots  who  lay  about  in  no  very  gentle  fashion  ; 
but,  alas,  it  was  gone.  I sprang  to  my  feet,  and  only  then 
remembered  how  unfit  I was  to  follow  up  the  search,  as 
tables,  chairs,  lights,  and  people,  seemed  all  rocking  and  wav- 
ing before  me.  However,  I succeeded  in  making  my  way, 
through  one  rooiiji  into  another,  sometimes  guiding  my  steps 
along  the  walls ; and  once,  as  I recollect,  seeking  the  diag- 
onal of  a room,  I bisected  a quadrille  with  such  ill-directed 
speed,  as  to  run  foul  of  a Cork  dandy  and  his  partner  who 
were  just  performing  the  u en  avant but  though  I saw 
them  tumbled  in  the  dust  by  the  shock  of  my  encounter — for 
I had  upset  them — I still  held  on  the  even  tenor  of  my  way. 
In  fact,  I had  feeling  but  for  one  loss  ; and,  still  in  pursuit  of' 
my  cane,  I reached  the  hall  door.  Now,  be  it  known  that 
the  architecture  of  the  Cork  Mansion  House  has  but  one 
fault,  but  that  fault  is  a grand  one,  and  a strong  evidence  of 
how  unsuited  English  architects  are  to  provide  buildings  for 
a people  whose  tastes  and  habits  they  but  imperfectly 
understand — be  it  known,  then,  that  the  descent  from  the 
hall-door  to  the  street  was  by  a flight  of  twelve  stone  steps. 
How  I should  ever  get  down  these  was  now  my  difficulty. 
If  Falstaff  deplored  44  eight  yards  of  uneven  ground  as  being 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*7 

threescore  and  ten  miles  a foot,”  with  equal  truth  did  I feel 
that  these  twelve  awful  steps  were  worse  to  me  than  would 
be  M’Gillicuddy  Reeks  in  the  daylight,  and  with  a head 
clear  from  champagne. 

While  I yet  hesitated,  the  problem  resolved  itself ; for, 
gazing  down  upon  the  bright  gravel,  brilliantly  lighted  by 
the  surrounding  lamps,  I lost  my  balance,  and  came  tum- 
bling and  rolling  from  top  to  bottom,  where  I fell  upon  a large 
mass  of  some  soft  substance,  to  which,  in  all  probability,  I 
owe  my  life.  In  a few  seconds  I recovered  my  sense,  and 
what  was  my  surprise  to  find  that  the  downy  cushion  beneath 
snored  most  audibly  ! I moved  a little  to  one  side,  and 
then  discovered  that  in  reality  it  was  nothing  less  than  an 
alderman  of  Cork,  who,  from  his  position,  I concluded  had 
shared  the  same  fate  with  myself  ; there  he  lay,  “ like  a 
warrior  taking  his  rest ; ” but  not  with  his  “ martial  cloak 
around  him,”  but  a much  more  comfortable  and  far  more 
costly  robe — a scarlet  gown  of  office — with  huge  velvet  cuffs 
and  a great  cape  of  the  same  material.  True  courage  con- 
sists in  presence  of  mind  ; and  here  mine  came  to  my  aid  at 
once;  recollecting  the  loss  I had  just  sustained,  and  per- 
ceiving that  all  was  still  about  me,  with  that  right  Peninsu- 
lar maxim,  that  reprisals  are  fair  in  an  enemy’s  camp,  I 
proceeded  to  strip  the  slain  ; and  with  some  little  difficulty 
— partly,  indeed,  owing  to  my  own  unsteadiness  on  my  legs 
— I succeeded  in  denuding  the  worthy  alderman,  who  gave 
no  other  sign  of  life  during  the  operation  than  an  abortive 
effort  to  “ hip  hip  hurra ,”  in  which  I left  him,  having  put 
on  the  spoil,  and  set  out  on  my  way  to  the  barrack  with  as 
much  dignity  of  manner  as  I could  assume  in  honor  of  my 
costume.  And  here  I may  mention  (en  parenthese)  that  a 
more  comfortable  morning-gown  no  man  ever  possessed, 
and  in  its  wide  luxuriant  folds  I revel,  while  I write  these 
lines. 

When  I awoke  on  the  following  day  I had  considerable 
difficulty  in  tracing  the  events  of  the  past  evening.  The 
great  scarlet  cloak,  however,  unravelled  much  of  the  mystery, 
and  gradually  the  whole  of  my  career  became  clear  before  me 
with  the  single  exception  of  the  episode  of  Phil  Beamish, 
about  which  my  memory  was  subsequently  refreshed — but  I 
anticipate.  Only  five  appeared  that  day  at  mess  : and,  Lord  ! 
what  spectres  they  were ! — yellow  as  guineas ; they  called  for 
soda  water  without  ceasing,  and  scarcely  spoke  a word  to 

2 


HARRY  L OR  RE  Q UER* 


US 

each  other.  It  was  plain  that  the  corporation  of  Cork  was 
committing  more  havoc  among  us  than  Corunna  or  Waterloo, 
and  that  if  we  did  not  change  our  quarters,  there  would  be 
quick  promotion  in  the  corps  for  such  as  were  “ seasoned 
gentlemen.’’  After  a day  or  two  we  met  again  together,  and 
then  what  adventures  were  told — each  man  had  his  own 
story  to  narrate ; and  from  the  occurrences  detailed,  one 
would  have  supposed  years  had  been  passing,  instead  of  the 
short  hours  of  an  evening  party.  Mine  were,  indeed* 
among  the  least  remarkable ; but  I confess  that  the  air  of 
vraisemblance  produced  by  my  production  of  the  aldermanic 
gown  gave  me  the  palm  above  all  competitors. 

Such  was  our  life  in  Cork — dining,  drinking,  dancing, 
riding  steeple-chases,  pigeon  shooting,  and  tandem  driving — • 
filling  up  any  little  interval  that  was  found  to  exist  between 
a late  breakfast  and  the  time  to  dress  for  dinner  ; and  here 
I hope  I shall  not  be  accused  of  a tendency  to  boasting,  while 
I add,  that  among  all  ranks  and  degrees  of  men,  and 
women  too,  there  never  was  a regiment  more  highly  in  esti- 
mation than  the  4-th.  We  felt  the  full  value  of  all  the  at- 
tentions we  were  receiving ; and  we  endeavored,  as  best  we 
might,  to  repay  them.  We  got  up  garrison  balls  and  garrison 
plays,  and  usually  performed  once  or  twice  a week  during  the 
winter.  Here  I shone  conspicuously  : in  the  morning  I was 
employed  painting  scenery  and  arranging  the  properties,  as 
it  grew  later,  I regulated  the  lamps,  and  looked  after  the 
foot-lights,  mediating  occasionally  between  angry  litigants, 
whose  jealousies  abound  to  the  full  as  much  in  private 
theatricals  as  in  the  regular  corps  dramcitique%  Then,  I 
was  also  leader  in  the  orchestra ; and  had  scarcely  given 
the  last  scrape  in  the  overture,  before  I was  obliged  to  ap- 
pear to  speak  the  prologue.  Such  are  the  cares  of  great- 
ness : to  do  myself  justice,  I did  not  dislike  them  ; though, 
to  be  sure,  my  taste  for  the  drama  did  cost  me  a little  dear, 
as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

We  were  then  in  the  full  career  of  popularity.  Our  balls 
pronounced  the  very  pleasantest ; our  plays  far  superior  to 
any  regular  corps  that  had  ever  honored  Cork  with  their 
talents ; when  an  event  occurred  which  threw  a gloom  over 
all  our  proceedings,  and  finally  put  a stop  to  every  project 
for  amusement  we  had  so  completely  given  ourselves  up  to. 
This  was  no  less  than  the  removal  of  our  lieutenant-colonel. 
After  thirty  years  of  active  service  in  the  regiment  he  then 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


*9 


commanded,  his  age  and  infirmities,  increased  by  some 
severe  wounds,  demanded  ease  and  repose ; he  retired  from 
us,  bearing  along  with  him  the  love  and  regard  of  every  man 
in  the  regiment.  To  the  old  officers,  he  was  endeared  by  long 
companionship  and  un deviating  friendship  ; to  the  young,  he 
was  in  every  respect  as  a father,  assisting  by  his  advice,  and 
guiding  by  his  counsel ; while  to  the  men,  the  best  estimate 
of  his  worth  appeared  in  the  fact  that  corporeal  punishment 
was  unknown  in  the  corps.  Such  was  the  man  we  lost ; and 
it  may  well  be  supposed  that  his  successor,  who  or  whatever 
he  might  be  came  under  circumstances  of  no  common  dif- 
ficulty amongst  us,  but  when  I tell  that  our  new  lieutenant- 
colonel  was  in  every  respect  his  opposite,  it  may  be  believed 
how  little  cordiality  he  met  with. 

Lieutenant-colonel  Carden — for  so  I shall  call  him,  al- 
though not  his  real  name — had  not  been  a month  at 
quarters,  when  he  proved  himself  a regular  martinet : ever- 
lasting drills,  continual  reports,  fatigue  parties,  and  ball 
practice,  and  Heaven  knows  what  besides,  superseded  our 
former  morning’s  occupation  : and,  at  the  end  of  the  time  I 
have  mentioned,  we,  who  had  fought  our  way  from  Albuera 
to  Waterloo,  under  some  of  the  severest  generals  of  division, 
were  pronounced  a most  disorderly  and  ill-disciplined  regi- 
ment by  a colonel  who  had  never  seen  a shot  fired  but  a 
review  in  Hounslow,  or  a sham-battle  in  the  Fifteen  Acres. 
The  winter  was  now  drawing  to  a close — already  some  little 
touch  of  spring  was  appearing ; as  our  last  play  for  the  sea- 
son was  announced,  every  effort  to  close  with  some  little  ad- 
ditional iclat  was  made  ; and  each  performer  in  the  expected 
piece  was  nerving  himself  for  an  effort  beyond  his  wont. 
The  colonel  had  most  unequivocally  condemned  these  plays  ; 
but  that  mattered  not ; they  came  not  within  his  jurisdiction  ; 
and  we  took  no  notice  of  his  displeasure,  further  than  send- 
ing him  tickets,  which  were  as  immediately  returned  as  re- 
ceived. From  being  the  chief  offender,  I had  become  par- 
ticularly obnoxious  ; and  he  had  upon  more  than  one  occasion 
expressed  his  desire  for  an  opportunity  to  visit  me  with  his 
vengeance  ; but  being  aware  of  his  kind  intentions  toward  me, 
I took  particular  care  to  let  no  such  opportunity  occur. 

On  the  morning  in  question,  then,  I had  scarcely  left  my 
quarters  when  one  of  my  brother  officers  informed  me  that 
the  colonel  had  made  a great  uproar,  that  one  of  the  bills  of 
the  play  had  been  put  up  on  his  door — which,  with  his  avowed 


HARRY  LORREQt/RR.  \ 


20 

dislike  to  such  representations,  he  considered  as  intended  to 
insult  him ; he  added,  too,  that  the  colonel  attributed  it  to 
me.  In  this,  however,  he  was  wrong — and,  to  this  hour,  I 
never  knew  who  did  it.  I had  little  time,  and  still  less 
inclination,  to  meditate  upon  the  colonel’s  wrath — the  theatre 
had  all  my  thoughts ; and  indeed  it  was  a day  of  no  common 
exertion,  for  our  amusements  were  to  conclude  with  a grand 
supper  on  the  stage,  to  which  all  the  elite  of  Cork  were 
invited.  Whenever  I went  through  the  city — and  many  were 
my  peregrinations — the  great  placard  of  the  play  stared  me 
in  the  face  ; and  every  gate  and  shuttered  window  in  Cork 
proclaimed  “ the  part  of  Othello,  by  Mr.  Lorrequer.” 

As  evening  drew  near,  my  cares  and  occupations  were 
redoubled.  My  lago  I had  fears  for — ’tis  true  he  was  an 
admirable  Lord  Grizzle  in  Tom  Thumb — but  then — then 
I had  to  paint  the  whole  company,  and  bear  all  their  abuse 
besides,  for  not  making  some  of  the  most  ill-looking  wretches 
perfect  Apollos ; but,  last  of  all,  I was  sent  for,  at  a quarter 
to  seven,  to  lace  Desdemona’s  stays.  Start  not,  gentle 
reader — my  fair  Desdemona — she  “ who  might  lie  by  an 
emperor’s  side,  and  command  him  tasks  ” — was  no  other 
than  the  senior  lieutenant  of  the  regiment,  and  who  was  as 
great  a votaiy  of  the  jolly  god  as  honest  Cassio  himself. 
But  I must  hasten  on — I cannot  delay  to  recount  our  success 
in  detail.  Let  it  suffice  to  say  that,  by  universal  consent,  I 
was  preferred  to  Kean,  and  the  only  fault  the  most  critical 
observer  could  find  to  the  representative  of  Desdemona  was 
a rather  un lady-like  fondness  for  snuff.  But,  whatever  little 
demerits  our  acting  might  have  displayed  were  speedily 
forgotten  in  a champagne  supper.  There  I took  the  head  of 
the  table,  and,  in  the  costume  of  the  noble  Moor,  toasted, 
made  speeches,  returned  thanks,  and  sung  songs,  till  I might 
have  exclaimed  with  Othello  himself,  “ Chaos  was  come 
again ! ” — and  I believe  I owe  my  ever  reaching  the  barrack 
that  night  to  the  kind  offices  of  Desdemona,  who  carried  me 
the  greater  part  of  the  way  on  her  back. 

The  first  waking  thoughts  of  him  who  has  indulged  over- 
night are  not  among  the  most  blissful  of  existence,  and 
certainly  the  pleasure  is  not  increased  by  the  consciousness 
that  he  is  called  on  to  the  discharge  of  duties  to  which  a 
fevered  pulse  and  throbbing  temples  are  but  ill-suited.  My 
sleep  was  suddenly  broken  in  upon  the  morning  after  the 
play  by  a “row-dow-dow  ” beat  beneath  my  window.  I 


I/ARR  V LORREQUER. 


if 


jumped  hastily  from  my  bed,  and  looked  out,  and  there,  to  my 
horror,  perceived  the  regiment  under  arms.  It  was  one  of  our 
confounded  colonel's  morning  drills ; and  there  he  stood 
himself  with  the  poor  adjutant,  who  had  been  up  all  night, 
shivering  beside  him.  Some  two  or  three  of  the  officers  had 
descended ; and  the  drum  was  now  summoning  the  others,  as 
it  beat  round  the  barrack-square.  I saw  there  was  not  a 
moment  to  lose,  and  proceeded  to  dress  with  all  dispatch , 
but,  to  my  misery,  I discovered  everywhere  nothing  but 
theatrical  robes  and  decorations — there  lay  a splendid 
turban,  here  a pair  of  buskins — a spangled  jacket  glittered 
on  one  table,  and  a jewelled  cimeter  on  the  other.  At  last 
I detected  my  “ regimental  small-clothes,"  etc.,  most  igno- 
miniously  thrust  into  a corner,  in  my  ardor  for  my  Moorish 
robes  the  preceding  evening. 

I dressed  myself  with  the  speed  of  lightning ; but  as  I 
proceeded  in  my  occupation — guess  my  annoyance  to  find 
that  the  toilet-table  and  glass,  ay,  and  even  the  basin-stand, 
had  been  removed  to  the  dressing-room  of  the  theatre ; and  my 
servant,  I suppose,  following  his  master’s  example,  was  too 
tipsy  to  remember  to  bring  them  back  ; so  that  I was  unable 
to  procure  the  luxury  of  cold  water — for  now  not  a moment 
more  remained — the  drum  had  ceased,  and  the  men  had  all 
fallen  in.  Hastily  drawing  on  my  coat,  I put  on  my  shako, 
and  buckling  on  my  belt  as  dandy-like  as  might  be,  hurried 
down  the  stairs  to  the  barrack-yard.  By  the  time  I got  down, 
the  men  were  all  drawn  up  in  line  along  the  square ; while 
the  adjutant  was  proceeding  to  examine  their  accoutrements, 
etc.,  as  he  passed  down.  The  colonel  ands  the  officers  were 
standing  in  a group,  but  not  conversing.  The  anger  of  the 
commanding  officer  appeared  still  to  continue,  and  there  was 
a dead  silence  maintained  on  both  sides.  To  reach  the  spot 
where  they  stood,  I had  to  pass  along  part  of  the  line.  In 
doing  so,  how  shall  I convey  my  amazement  at  the  faces  that 
met  me — a general  titter  ran  along  the  entire  rank,  which 
not  even  their  fears  for  consequences  seemed  able  to  repress 
— for  an  effort,  on  the  part  of  many  to  stifle  the  laugh,  only 
ended  in  a still  louder  burst  of  merriment.  I looked  to  the 
far  side  of  the  yard  for  an  explanation,  but  there  was  nothing 
there  to  account  for  it.  I now  crossed  over  to  where  the 
officers  were  standing,  determining  in  my  own  mind  to 
investigate  the  occurrence  thoroughly,  when  free  from  the 
presence  of  the  colonel,  to  whom  any  representation  of  ill 


22  HARRY  L ORREQUER. 

conduct  always  brought  a punishment  far  exceeding  the 
merits  of  the  case. 

Scarcely  had  I formed  this  resolve,  when  I reached  the 
group  of  officers  ; but  the  moment  I came  near,  one  general 
roar  of  laughter  saluted  me — the  like  of  which  I never  before 
heard.  I looked  down  at  my  costume,  expecting  to  discover 
that,  in  my  hurry  to  dress,  I had  put  on  some  of  the  garments 
of  Othello.  No:  all  was  perfectly  correct.  I waited  for  a 
moment,  till,  the  first  burst  of  merriment  over,  I should 
obtain  a clew  to  the  jest.  But  there  seemed  no  prospect  of 
this,  for  as  I stood  patiently  before  them  their  mirth  appeared 

to  increase.  Indeed  poor  G , the*  senior  major,  one  of 

the  gravest  men  in  Europe,  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down 
his  cheeks  ; and>‘-such  was  the  effect  upon  me,  that  I was 
induced  to  laugh  too — as  men  will  sometimes,  from  the 
infectious  nature  of  that  strange  emotion  ; but,  no  sooner 
did  I do  this,  than  their  fun  knew  no  bounds,  and  some 
almost  screamed  aloud,  in  the  excess  of  their  merriment. 
Just  at  this  instant  the  colonel,  who  had  been  examining  some 
of  the  men,  approached  our  group,  advancing  with  an  air  of 
evident  displeasure,  as  the  shouts  of  loud  laughter  continued. 
As  he  came  up  I turned  hastily  round,  and  touching  my  cap, 
wished  him  good  morning.  Never  shall  I forget  the  look  he 
gave  me.  If  a glance  could  have  annihilated  any  man,  his 
would  have  finished  me.  For  a moment  his  face  became 
purple  with  rage,  his  eyes  were  almost  hid  beneath  his  bent 
brow,  and  he  absolutely  shook  with  passion. 

“ Go,  sir,”  said  he  at  length,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  find 
utterance  for  his  words  ; “ Go,  sir,  to  your  quarters  ; and  be- 
fore you  leave  them,  a court-martial  shall  decide  if  such  con- 
tinued insult  to  your  commanding  officer  warrants  your  name 
being  in  the  Army  List.” 

“ What  the  devil  can  all  this  mean  ? ” I said,  in  a half 
whisper,  turning  to  the  others.  But  there  they  stood,  their 
handkerchiefs  to  their  mouths,  and  evidently  choking  with 
suppressed  laughter. 

“ May  I beg,  Colonel  Carden,”  said  I 

“ To  your  quarters,  sir,”  roared  the  little  man,  in  the  voice 
of  a lion.  And  with  a haughty  wave  of  his  hand,  prevented 
all  further  attempt  on  my  part  to  seek  explanation. 

“ They’re  all  mad,  every  one  of  them,”  I muttered,  as  I 
betook  myself  slowly  back  to  my  rooms,  amid  the  same  evi- 
dences of  mirth  my  first  appearance  had  excited — which  even 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


23 

the  colonel’s  presence,  feared  as  he  was,  could  not  entirely 
subdue. 

With  the  air  of  a martyr  I trod  heavily  up  the  stairs,  and 
entered  my  quarters,  meditating  within  myself  awful  schemes 
for  vengeance  on  the  now  open  tyranny  of  my  colonel ; upon 
whom,  I too,  in  my  honest  rectitude  of  heart,  vowed  to  have 
“ a court  martial.’’  I threw  myself  upon  a chair,  and  endeavored 
to  recollect  what  circumstance  of  the  past  evening  could  have 
possibly  suggested  all  the  mirth  in  which  both  officers  and 
men  seemed  to  participate  equally;  but  nothing  could  I 
remember,  capable  of  solving  the  mystery — surely  the  cruel 
wrongs  of  the  manly  Othello  were  no  laughter-moving  subject. 

I rang  the  bell  hastily  for  my  servant.  The  door  opened. 

“ Stubbes,”  said  I,  “ are  you  aware ” 

I had  only  got  so  far  in  my  question,  when  my  servant,  one 
of  the  most  discreet  of  men,  put  on  a broad  grin,  and  turned 
away  toward  the  door  to  hide  his  face.  * 

“ What  the  devil  does  this  mean  ? ” said  I,  stamping  with 
passion ; “ he  is  as  bad  as  the  rest.  Stubbes,”  and  this  I 
spoke  in  the  most  grave  and  severe  tone,“  what  is  the  meaning 
of  this  insolence  ? ” 

“ Oh,  sir,”  said  the  man  ; “ Oh,  sir,  surely  you  did  not  appeal 
on  the  parade  with  that  face  ? ” and  then  he  burst  into  a fit 
of  the  most  uncontrollable  laughter. 

Like  lightning  a horrid  doubt  shot  across  my  mind.  1 
sprang  over  to  the  dressing  glass,  which  had  been  replaced, 
and  oh ! horror  of  horrors  ! there  I stood  as  black  as  the  king 
of  Ashantee.  The  cursed  dye  which  I had  put  on  for  Othello, 
I had  never  washed  off — and  there,  with  a huge  bear-skin 
shako,  and  a pair  of  black,  bushy  whiskers,  shone  my  huge, 
black  and  polished  visage,  glowering  at  itself  in  the  looking- 
glass. 

My  first  impulse,  after  amazement  had  a little  subsided, 
was  to  laugh  immoderately  ; in  this  I was  joined  by  Stubbes, 
who,  feeling  that  his  mirth  was  participated  in,  gave  full  vent 
to  his  risibility.  And,  indeed,  as  I stood  before  the  glass, 
grinning  from  ear  to  ear  I felt  very  little  surprise  that  my 
joining  in  the  laughter  of  my  brother  officers,  a short  time 
before,  had  caused  an  increase  of  their  merriment.  I threw 
myself  upon  a sofa,  and  absolutely  laughed  till  my  sides  ached, 
when  the  door  opening,  the  adjutant  made  his  appearance. 
He  looked  for  a moment  at  me,  then  at  Stubbes,  and  then 
burst  out  himself,  as  loud  as  either  of  us.  When  he  had  at 


24 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


length  recovered  himself  he  wiped  his  face  with  his  handker- 
chief, and  said  with  a tone  of  much  gravity : 

u But,  my  dear  Lorrequer,  this  will  be  a serious — a devilish 
serious  affair.  You  know  what  kind  of  man  Colonel  Carden 
is  ; and  you  are  aware,  too,  you  are  not  one  of  his  prime 
favorites.  He  is  firmly  convinced  that  you  intended  to  insult 
him,  and  nothing  will  convince  him  to  the  contrary.  We  told 
him  how  it  must  have  occurred,  but  he  will  listen  to  no  ex- 
planation.” 

I thought  for  one  second  before  I replied  ; my  mind,  with 
the  practiced  rapidity  of  an  old  campaigner,  took  in  all  the 
pros  and  cons  of  the  case  ; I saw  at  a glance,  it  were  better  to 
brave  the  anger  of  the  colonel  come  in  what  shape  it  might, 
than  be  the  laughing-stock  of  the  mess  for  life,  and  with  a 
face  of  the  greatest  gravity  and  self-possession,  said  : 

“ Well,  adjutant,  the  colonel  is  right.  It  was  no  mistake  ! 
You  know  I sent  him  tickets  yesterday  for  the  theatre.  Well, 
* he  returned  them  ; this  did  not  annoy  me,  but  on  one  account ; 
I had  made  a wager  with  Alderman  Gullable,  that  the  colonel 
should  see  me  in  Othello — what  was  to  be  done  ? Don’t  you 
see  now,  there  was  only  one  course,  and  I took  it,  old  boy, 
and  have  won  my  bet.” 

“ And  lost  your  commission  for  a dozen  of  champagne,  I 
suppose,”  said  the  adjutant. 

“ Never  mind,  my  dear  fellow,”  I replied  ; “ I shall  get  out 
of  this  scrape,  as  I have  done  many  others.” 

“ But  what  do  you  intend  doing  ? ” 

“ Oh,  as  to  that,”  said  I,  “ I shall,  of  course,  wait  on  the 
colonel  immediately  ; pretend  to  him  that  it  was  a mere  blun- 
der, from  the  inattention ‘of  my  servant — hand  over  Stubbes 
to  the  powers  that  punish  ( here  the  poor  fellow  winced  a little  ), 
and  make  my  peace  as  well  as  I can.  But,  adjutant,  mind,” 
said  I,  “ and  give  the  reversion  to  all  our  fellows,  and  tell 
them  to  make  it  public  as  much  as  they  please.” 

“ Never  fear,”  said  he,  as  he  left  the  room  still  laughing  ; 
“ they  shall  all  know  the  true  story ; but  I wish  with  all  my 
heart  you  were  well  out  of  it.” 

I now  lost  no  time  in  making  my  toilet,  and  presented 
myself  at  the  colonel’s  quarters.  It  is  no  pleasure  for  me 
to  recount  these  passages  in  my  life,  in  which  I have  had  to 
bear  the  proud  man’s  contumely.”  I shall  therefore 
merely  observe,  that  after  a very  long  interview,  the  colonel 
accepted  my  apologies,  and  we  parted. 


HARR  V L ORREQ  UER. 


2$ 

Before  a week  elapsed,  the  story  had  gone  far  and  near ; 
every  dinner-table  in  Cork  had  laughed  at  it.  As  for  me,  I 
attained  immortal  honor  from  my  tact  and  courage.  Poor 
Gullable  readily  agreed  to  favor  the  story,  and  gave  us  a 
dinner  as  the  lost  wager,  and  the  colonel  was  so  unmer- 
cifully quizzed  on  the  subject,  and  such  broad  allusions  to 
his  being  humbugged  were  given  in  the  Cork  papers,  that 
he  was  obliged  to  negotiate  a change  of  quarters  with 
another  regiment,  to  get  out  of  the  continual  jesting,  and  in 
less  than  a month  we  marched  to  Limerick,  to  relieve,  as 
it  was  reported,  the  9th,  ordered  for  foreign  service,  but,  in 
reality,  only  to  relieve  Lieutenant-colonel  Carden,  quizzed 
beyond  endurance. 

However,  if  the  colonel  had  seemed  to  forgive,  he  did 
not  forget,  for  the  very  second  week  after  our  arrival  in 
Limerick,  I received  one  morning  at  my  breakfast-table,  the 
following  brief  note  from  our  adjutant : 

44  My  dear  Lorrequer  : — The  colonel  has  received 
orders  to  dispatch  two  companies  to  some  remote  part 
of  the  county  Clare ; as  you  have I * *  4 done  the  state  some 
service/  you  are  selected  for  the  beautiful  town  of  Kilrush, 
wliere,  to  use  the  eulogistic  language  of  the  geography 
books,  4 there  is  a good  harbor,  and  a market  plentifully 
supplied  with  fish.’  I have  just  heard  of  the  kind  intention 
in  store  for  you,  and  lose  no  time  in  letting  you  know. 

44  God  give  you  a good  deliverance  from  the  ‘ gaff 0 ns 
blancs / the.  Monsieur  calls  the  Whiteboys,  and  believe 'me 
ever  yours, 

44  Charles  Curzon.” 

I had  scarcely  twice  read  over  the  adjutant’s  epistle, 
when  I received  an  official  notification  from  the  colonel, 
directing  me  to  proceed  to  Kilrush,  then  and  there  to  afford 
all  aid  and  assistance  in  suppressing  illicit  distillation  when 
called  on  for  that  purpose  ; and  other  similar  duties  too 
agreeable  to  recapitulate.  Alas  ! alas  ! 44  Othello’s  occupa- 

tion” was  indeed  gone  ! The  next  morning  at  sunrise  saw 

me  on  my  march,  with  what  appearance  of  gayety  I could 
muster,  but  in  reality  very  much  chopfallen  at  my  banish- 
ment, and  invoking  sundry  things  upon  the  devoted  head  of 
the  colonel,  which  he  would  by  no  means  consider  as 

44  blessings.” 


26 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


How  short-sighted  are  we  mortals,  whether  enjoying  all 
the  pomp  and  state  of  royalty,  or  marching  like  myself  at 
the  head  of  a company  of  his  Majesty’s  4-th. 

Little,  indeed,  did  I anticipate  that  the  Siberia  to  which  I 
fancied  I was  condemned,  should  turn  out  the  happiest 
quarters  my  fate  ever  threw  me  into.  But  this,  including  as 
it  does,  one  of  the  most  important  events  of  my  life,  I 
reserve  for  another  chapter. 

“ What  is  that  place  called,  sergeant  ? ” 

“ Bunratty  Castle,  sir.” 

“ Where  do  we  breakfast  ? ” 

“ At  Clare  Island,  sir.” 

“ March  away,  boys  ! ” 


CHAPTER  II. 

DETACHMENT  DUTY — THE  BURTON  ARMS — CALLONBY. 

For  a week  after  my  arrival  at  Kilrush,  my  life  was  one 
of  the  most  dreary  monotony.  The  rain  which  had  begun  to 
fall  as  I left  Limerick,  continued  to  descend  in  torrents,  and 
I found  myself  a close  prisoner  in  the  sanded  parlor  of 
“ mine  inn.”  At  no  time  would  such  “ durance  vile  ” have 
been  agreeable  ; but  now,  when  I contrasted  it  with  all  I had 
left  behind  at  headquarters,  it  was  absolutely  maddening. 
The  pleasant  lounge  in  the  morning,  the  social  mess,  and 
the  agreeable  evening  party,  were  all  exchanged  for  a short 
promenade  of  fourteen  feet  in  one  direction,  and  twelve  in 
the  other,  such  being  the  accurate  measurement  of  my 
“ salle  a manger.”  A chicken  with  legs  as  blue  as  a 
Highlander’s  in  winter,  for  my  dinner ; and  the  hours  that 
all  Christian  mankind  were  devoting  to  pleasant  intercourse 
and  agreeable  chit-chat  spent  in  beating  that  dead  march 
to  time,  “the  Devil’s  Tattoo,”  upon  my  rickety  table,  and 
forming  between  whiles  sundry  valorous  resolutions  to  re- 
form my  life,  and  “ eschew  sack  and  loose  company.” 

My  front  window  looked  out  upon  a long,  straggling,  ill- 
paved  street,  with  its  due  proportion  of  mud-heaps  and  duck 
pools  ; the  houses  on  either  side  were,  for  the  most  part 
dingy-looking  edifices,  with  half-doors,  and  such  pretension 
to  being  shops  as  a quart  of  meal  or  salt  displayed  in  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*1 


window  confers;  or  sometimes  two  tobacco-pipes,  placed 
“ saltier-wise,”  would  appear  the  only  vendible  article  in  the 
establishment.  A more  wretched,  gloomy-looking  picture  of 
woebegone  poverty  I never  beheld. 

If  I turned  for  consolation  to  the  back  of  the  house,  my 
eyes  fell  upon  the  dirty  yard  of  a dirty  inn  ; the  half-thatched 
cow-shed,  where  two  famished  animals  mourned  their  hard 
fate — “ chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy,”  the 
chaise,  the  yellow  post-chaise,  once  the  pride  and  glory  of 
the  establishment,  now  stood  reduced  from  its  wheels  and 
ignominiously  degraded  to  a hen-house ; on  the  grass-grown 
roof  a cock  had  taken  his  stand,  with  an  air  of  protective 
patronage  to  the  feathered  inhabitants  beneath. 

“ To  what  base  uses  must  we  come  at  last.’’ 

That  chaise,  which  once  had  conveyed  the  blooming 
bride,  all  blushes  and  tenderness,  and  the  happy  groom,  on 
their  honeymoon  visit  to  Ballybunion  and  its  romantic 
caves,  or  to  the  gigantic  cliffs  and  sea-girt  shores  of  Moher 
. — or  with  more  steady  pace  and  becoming  gravity  had 
borne  along  the  “going  judge  of  assize,”  was  now  become  a 
lying-in  hospital  for  fowl  and  a nursery  for  chickens.  Fallen 
as  I was  myself  from  my  high  estate,  it  afforded  me  a 
species  of  malicious  satisfaction  to  contemplate  these  re- 
verses of  fortune  ; and  I verily  believe — for  on  such  slight 
foundation  our  greatest  resolves  are  built — that  if  the  rain 
had  continued  a week  longer,  I should  have  become  a 
misanthropist  for  life.  I made  many  inquiries  from  my 
landlady  as  to  the  society  of  the  place,  but  the  answers  I 
received  only  led  to  greater  despondence.  My  predecessors 
here,  it  seemed,  had  been  an  officer  of  a veteran  battalion, 
with  a wife,  and  that  amount  of  children  which  is  algebrai- 
cally expressed  by  an  X (meaning  an  unknown  quantity.) 
He,  good  man,  in  his  two  years’  sojourn  here,  had  been 
much  more  solicitous  about  his  own  affairs,  than  making 
acquaintance  with  his  neighbors  : and  at  last,  the  few  persons 
who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  calling  on  “ the  officer,”  gave 
up  the  practice:  and  as  there  were  no  young  ladies  to 
refresh  Pa’s  memory  on  the  matter,  they  soon  forgot  com- 
pletely that  such  a person  existed — and  to  this  happy  ob- 
livion I,  Harry  Lorrequer,  succeeded,  and  was  thus  left, 
without  benefit  of  clergy,  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Mrs. 
Healy  of  the  Burton  Arms. 


Harry  idRREQUER. 


As  during  the  inundation  which  deluged  the  whole  CO  tut* 
try  around  I was  unable  to  stir  from  the  house,  I enjoyed 
abundant  opportunity  of  cultivating  the  acquaintance  of  my 
hostess,  and  it  is  but  fair  that  my  reader,  who  has  journeyed 
so  far  with  me,  should  have  an  introduction. 

Mrs.  Healy,  the  sole  proprietor  of  the  “ Burton  Arms,” 
was  of  some  five  and  fifty — “ or  ]?y’r  lady,”  threescore  years 
— of  a rubicund  and  hade  complexion  ; and  though  her  short 
neck  and  corpulent  figure  might  have  set  her  down  as 
“ doubly  hazardous,”  she  looked  a good  life  for  many  years 
to  come.  In  height  and  breadth  she  most  nearly  resembled 
a sugar-hogshead,  whose  rolling,  pitching  motion,  when 
trundled  along  on  edge,  she  emulated  in  her  gait.  To  the 
ungainliness  of  her  figure  her  mode  of  dressing  not  a little 
contributed.  She  usually  wore  a thick  linsey-woolsey  gown, 
with  enormous  pockets  on  either  side,  and  like  Nora 
Creina’s,  it  certainly  inflicted  no  undue  restrictions  upon 
her  charms,  but  left 

“ Every  beauty  free, 

To  sink  or  swell  as  heaven  pleases.” 

Her  feet — ye  gods  ! such  feet — were  apparelled  in  listing 
slippers,  over  which  the  upholstery  of  her  ankles  descended, 
and  completely  relieved  the  mind  of  the  spectator  as  to  the 
superincumbent  weight  being  disproportioned  to  the  sup- 
port ; I remember  well  my  first  impression  on  seeing  those 
feet  and  ankles  reposing  upon  a straw  footstool,  while  she 
took  her  afternoon  doze,  and  I wondered  within  myself,  if 
elephants  were  liable  to  the  gout.  There  are  few  counte- 
nances in  the  world,  that,  if  wishing  to  convey  an  idea  of,  we 
cannot  refer  to  some  well-known  standard,  and  thus  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  hear  comparisons  with  “Vulcan — 
Venus — Nicodemus,”  and  the  like ; but  in  the  present  case 
I am  totally  at  a loss  for  anything  resembling  the  face  of  the 
worthy  Mrs.  Healy,  except  it  be,  perhaps,  that  most  ancient 
and  sour  visage  we  used  to  see  upon  old  circular  iron  rap- 
pers formerly — they  make  none  of  them  now — the  only 
difference  being,  that  Mrs.  Healy’s  nose  had  no  ring  through 
it ; I am  almost  tempted  to  add,  “ more’s  the  pity.” 

Such  was  she  “ in  the  flesh  ; ” would  that  I could  say  she 
was  more  fascinating  in  the  “ spirit ! ” but  alas,  truth,  from 
which  I never  may  depart  in  these  “ my  confessions,”  con- 
strains me  to  acknowledge  the  reverse.  Most  persons  in  this 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


29 


miserable  world  of  ours  have  some  prevailing,  predominat- 
ing characteristic,  which  usually  gives  the  tone  and  color  to 
all  their  thoughts  and  actions,  forming  what  we  denominate 
temperament;  this  we  see  actuating  them,  now  more,  now 
less ; but  rarely,  however,  is  this  great  spring  of  action  with- 
out its  moments  of  repose.  Not  so  with  her  of  whom  I have 
been  speaking.  She  had  but  one  passion — but  like  Aaron’s 
rod,  it  had  a most  consuming  tendency — and  that  was  to 
scold  and  abuse  all  whom  hard  fate  had  brought  within  the 
unfortunate  limits  of  her  tyranny.  The  English  language, 
comprehensive  as  it  is,  afforded  not  epithets  strong  enough 
for  her  wrath,  and  she  sought  among  the  more  classic  beauties 
of  her  native  Irish,  such  additional  ones  as  served  her  need, 
and  with  this  holy  alliance  of  tongues  she  had  been  for  years 
long  the  dread  and  terror  of  the  entire  village. 

“ The  dawning  of  morn,  the  day-light  sinking,” 

ay,  and  even  the  “ night’s  dull  hours,”  it  was  said,  too,  found 
her  laboring  in  her  congenial  occupation;  and  while  thus 
she  continued  to  “ scold  and  grow  fat,”  her  inn,  once  a popu- 
lar and  frequented  one,  became  gradually  less  and  less  fre- 
quented, and  the  dragon  of  the  Rhine-fells  did  not  more 
effectually  lay  waste  the  territory  about  him  than  did  the  evil 
influence  of  her  tongue  spread  desolation  and  ruin  around 
her.  Her  inn,  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  had  not  been  troubled 
with  even  a passing  traveller  for  many  months  ; and,  indeed, 
if  I had  had  any,  even  the  least  foreknowledge  of  the  charac- 
ter of  my  hostess,  its  privacy  should  still  have  remained 
uninvaded  for  some  time  longer. 

I had  not  been  many  hours  installed,  when  I got  a speci- 
men of  her  powers  ; and  before  the  first  week  was  over,  so 
constant  and  unremitting  were  her  labors  in  this  way,  that  I 
have,  upon  the  occasion  of  a slight  lull  in  the  storm,  occa- 
sioned by  her  falling  asleep,  actually  left  my  room  to  inquire 
if  anything  had  gone  wrong,  in  the  same  way  as  the  miller 
is  said  to  awake,  if  the  mill  stops.  I trust  I have  said 
enough,  to  move  the  reader’s  pity  and  compassion  for  my 
situation — one  more  miserable  it  is  difficult  to  conceive.  It 
may  be  thought  that  much  might  be  done  by  management, 
and  that  a slight  exercise  of  the  favorite  Whig  plan  of  con- 
ciliation might  avail.  Nothing  of  the  kind.  She  was  proof 
against  all  such  arts  ; and  what  was  still  worse,  there  was  no 
, subject,  no  possible  drcumstapce,  no  matter,  past,  present. 


3° 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


or  to  come,  that  she  could  not  wind  by  her  diabolical 
ingenuity,  into  some  cause  of  offence  ; and  then  came  the 
quick  transition  to  instant  punishment.  Thus  my  apparently 
harmless  inquiry  as  to  the  society  of  the  neighborhood, 
suggested  to  her — a wish  on  my  part  to  make  acquaintance 
— therefore  to  dine  out — therefore  not  to  dine  at  home — 
consequently  to  escape  paying  half  a crown  and  devouring 
a chicken — therefore  to  defraud  her,  and  behave  as  she 
would  herself  observe,  “like  a beggarly  scullion,  with  his 
four  shillings  a day,  setting  up  for  a gentleman,”  etc. 

By  a quiet  and  Job-like  endurance  of  all  manner  of  taunt- 
ing suspicions,  and  unmerited  sarcasms,  to  which  I daily 
become  more  reconciled,  I absolutely  rose  into  something 
like  favor,  and  before  the  first  month  of  my  banishment 
expired,  had  got  the  length  of  an  invitation  to  tea,  in  her 
own  snuggery — an  honor  never  known  to  be  bestowed  on  any 
before,  with  the  exception  of  Father  Malachi  Brennan,  her 
ghostly  adviser ; and  even  he,  it  is  said,  never  ventured  on 
such  an  approximation  to  intimacy,  until  he  was,  in  Kilrush 
phrase,  “ half  screwed,”  thereby  meaning  more  than  half 
tipsy.  From  time  to  time  thus,  I learned  from  my  hostess 
such  particulars  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants  as  I was 
desirous  of  hearing ; and  among  other  matters  she  gave  me 
an  account  of  the  great  landed  proprietor  himself,  Lord 
Callonby,  who  was  daily  expected  at  his  seat,  within  some 
miles  of  Kilrush,  at  the  same  time  assuring  me  that  I need 
not  be  looking  so  “ pleased  and  curling  out  my  whiskers ; ” 
“ that  they’d  never  take  the  trouble  of  asking  even  the  name 
of  me.”  This,  though  neither  very  courteous,  nor  alto- 
gether flattering  to  listen  to,  was  no  more  than  I had  already 
learned  from  some  brother  officers  who  knew  this  quarter, 
and  who  informed  me  that  the  Earl  of  Callonby,  though  only 
visiting  his  Irish  estates  every  three  or  four  years,  never  took 
the  slightest  notice  of  any  of  the  military  in  his  neighbor- 
hood : nor  indeed,  did  he  mix  with  the  country  gentry,  con- 
fining himself  to  his  own  family,  or  the  guests  who  usually 
accompanied  him  from  England,  and  remained  during  his 
few  weeks’  stay.  My  impression  of  his  lordship  was,  there- 
fore, not  calculated  to  cheer  my  solitude  by  any  prospect 
of  his  rendering  it  lighter. 

The  Earl’s  family  consisted  of  her  ladyship,  an  only  son, 
nearly  of  age,  and  two  daughters  ; the  eldest.  Lady  Jane, 
bad  the  reputation  of  being  extremely  beautiful ; and  I re- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3* 


membered  when  she  came  out  in  London,  only  the  year  be- 
fore, hearing  nothing  but  praises  of  the  grace  and  elegance 
of  her  manner,  united  to  the  most  classic  beauty  of  her  face 
and  figure.  The  second  daughter  was  some  years  younger, 
and  said  to  be  also  very  handsome  ; but  as  yet  she  had  not 
been  brought  into  society.  Of  the  son,  Lord  Kilkee,  I only 
heard  that  he  had  been  a very  gay  fellow  at  Oxford,  where 
he  was  much  liked,  and  although  not  particularly  studious, 
had  given  evidence  of  talent. 

Such  wer  the  few  particulars  I obtained  of  my  neighbors, 
and  thus  little  did  I know  of  those  who  were  so  soon  to  exer- 
cise a most  important  influence  upon  my  future  life. 

After  ,ome  weeks’  close  confinement,  which,  judging  from 
my  feelings  alone,  I should  have  counted  as  many  years,  I 
eagerly  seized  the  opportunity  of  the  first  glimpse  of  sun- 
shine, to  make  a short  excursion  along  the  coast ; I started 
early  in  the  morning,  and  after  a long  stroll  along  the  bold 
headlands  of  Kilkee,  was  returning  late  in  the  evening  to 
my  lodgings.  My  path  lay  across  a wild,  bleak  moor,  dotted 
wi  low  clumps  of  furze,  and  not  presenting  on  any  side  the 
least  trace  of  habitation.  In  wading  through  the  tangled 
bushes,  my  dog  “ Mouche  ” started  a hare ; and  after  a run 
“ sharp,  short  and  decisive,”  killed  it  at  the  bottom  of  a little 
glen  some  hundred  yards  off. 

I was  just  patting  my  dog,  and  examining  the  prize,  when 
I heard  a crackling  among  the  low  bushes  near  me  ; and  on 
looking  up,  perceived  about  twenty  paces  distant,  a short, 
thick-set  man,  whose  fustian  jacket  and  leathern  gaiters  at 
once  announced  him  the  gamekeeper  ; he  stood  leaning  upon 
his  gun,  quietly  awaiting,  as  it  seemed,  for  any  movement  on 
my  part,  before  he  interfered.  With  one  glance  I detected 
how  matters  stood,  and  immediately  adopting  my  usual 
policy  of  “ taking  the  bull  by  the  horns,”  called  out,  in  a tone 
of  very  sufficient  authority  : 

“ I say,  my  man,  are  you  his  lordship’s  gamekeeper  ? ” 

Taking  off  his  hat,  the  man  approached  me,  and  very 
respectfully  informed  me  that  he  was. 

“Well,  then,”  said  I,  “ present  this  hare  to  his  lordship 
with  my  respects  ; here  is  my  card,  and  say  I shall  be  most 
happy  to  wait  on  him  in  the  morning  and  explain  the  cir- 
cumstances.” 

The  man  took  the  card,  and  seemed  for  some  moments 
undecided  how  to  act ; he  seemed  to  think  that  probably  he 


32 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


might  be  ill-treating  a friend  of  his  lordship’s  if  he  refused ; 
and  on  the  other  hand  might  be  merely  “ jockeyed  ” by  some 
bold-faced  poacher.  Meanwhile  I whistled  my  dog  close 
up,  and  humming  an  air,  with  great  appearance  of  indiffer- 
ence, stepped  out  homeward.  By  this  piece  of  presence  of 
mind  I saved  poor  “ Mouche  ; ” for  I saw  at  a glance,  that, 
with  true  gamekeeper’s  law,  he  had  been  destined  to  death 
the  moment  he  had  committed  the  offence. 

The  following  morning,  as  I sat  at  breakfast,  meditating 
upon  the  events  of  the  preceding  day,  and  not  exactly  de- 
termined how  to  act,  whether  to  write  to  his  lordship  explain- 
ing how  the  matter  occurred,  or  call  personally,  a loud 
rattling  on  the  pavement  drew  me  to  the  window.  As  the 
house  stood  at  the  end  of  a street,  I cpuld  not  see  in  the 
direction  the  noise  came  ; but  as  I listened,  a very  handsome 
tandem  turned  the  corner  of  the  narrow  street,  and  came 
along  toward  the  hotel  at  a long,  sling  trot ; the  horses  were 
dark  chestnuts,  well  matched,  and  showing  a deal  of  blood. 
The  carriage  was  a dark  drab,  with  black  wheels  ; the  har- 
ness all  of  the  same  color.  The  whole  turn-out — and  I was 
an  amateur  of  that  sort  of  thing — was  perfect ; the  driver, 
for  I come  to  him  at  last,  as  he  was  the  last  I looked  at,  was 
a fashionable  looking  young  fellow,  plainly,  but  knowingly 
dressed,  and  evidently  handling  the  “ ribbon  ” like  an  experi- 
enced whip. 

After  bringing  his  nags  up  to  the  inn  door  in  very  pretty 
style,  he  gave  the  reins  to  his  servant,  and  got  down.  Before 
I was  well  aware  of  it,  the  door  of  my  room  opened,  and  the 
gentleman  entered  with  a certain  easy  air  of  good-breeding, 
and  saying  : 

“ Mr.  Lortequer,  I presume — 99  introduced  himself  as  Lord 
Kilkee. 

I immediately  opened  the  conversation  by  an  apology  for 
my  dog’s  misconduct  on  the  day  before,  and  assured  his 
lordship  that  I knew  the  value  of  a hare  in  a hunting  coun- 
try, and  was  really  sorry  for  the  circumstance. 

“ Then  I must  say,”  replied  his  lordship,  “ Mr.  Lorrequer 
is  the  only  person  who  regrets  the  matter ; for  had  it  not 
been  for  this,  it  is  more  than  probable  we  should  never  have 
known  we  were  so  near  neighbors ; in  fact,  nothing  could 
equal  our  amazement  at  hearing  you  were  playing  the  ‘ Soli- 
taire ’ down  here.  You  must  have  found  it  dreadfully  heavy, 
4 and  have  thought  us  downright  savages.’  But  then  I must! 


33 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 

explain  to  you,  that  my  father  has  made  some  4 rule  absolute  ’ 
about  visiting  when  down  here.  And  though  I know  you’ll 
not  consider  it  a compliment,  yet  I can  assure  you  there  is 
not  another  man  I know  of  he  would  pay  attention  to 
but  yourself.  He  made  two  efforts  to  get  here  this  morning, 
but  the  ‘gout  would  not  be  denied/  and  so  he  deputed  a 
most  inferior  c diplomate  ; ’ and  now  will  you  let  me  return 
with  some  character  from  my  first  mission,  and  inform  my 
friends  that  you  will  dine  with  us  to-day  at  seven — a mere 
family  party  ; but  make  your  arrangements  to  stop  all  night 
and  to-morrow : we  shall  find  some  work  for  my  friend 
there  on  the  hearth  ; what  do  you  call  him,  Mr.  Lorrequer  ? ” 

“ ‘ Mouche  ’ — come  here,  ‘ Mouche.’  ” 

“Ah  ‘ Mouche/  come  here  my  fine  fellow — a splendid  dog 
indeed  ; very  tall  for  a thorough-bred ; and  now  you’ll  not 
forget,  seven,  ‘ terns  militaire/  and  so,  sans  adieu.” 

And  with  these  words  his  lordship  shook  me  heartily  by 
the  hand  ; and  before  two  minutes  had  elapsed,  had  wrapped 
his  box  coat  once  more  across  him,  and  was  round  the 
corner. 

I looked  for  a few  moments  on  the  again  silent  street,  and 
was  almost  tempted  to  believe  I was  in  a dream,,  so  rapidly 
had  the  preceding  moments  passed  over  ; and  so  surprised 
was  I to  find  that  the  proud  Earl  of  Callonby,  who  never  did 
the  “civil  thing”  anywhere,  should  think  proper  to  pay 
attention  to  a poor  sub  in  a marching  regiment,  whose  only 
claim  on  his  acquaintance  was  the  suspicion  of  poaching  on 
his  manor.  I repeated  over  and  over  all  his  lordship’s  most 
polite  speeches,  trying  to  solve  the  mystery  of  them  ; but  in 
vain  ; a thousand  explanations  occurred,  but  none  of  them  I 
felt  at  all  satisfactory;  but  that  there  was  some  mystery 
somewhere,  I had  no  doubt ; for  I remarked  all  through  that 
Lord  Kilkee  laid  some  stress  upon  my  identity,  and  even 
seemed  surprised  at  my  being  in  such  banishment.  “ Oh,” 
thought  I at  last,  “ his  lordship  is  about  to  get  up  private 
theatricals,  and  has  seen  my  Captain  Absolute,  or  perhaps 
my  Hamlet  ” — I could  not  say  “ Othello,”  even  to  myself — * 
“ and  is  anxious  to  get  ‘ such  unrivalled  talent  ’ even  for  ‘ one 
night  only.’  ” 

After  many  guesses  this  seemed  the  nearest  I could  think 
of  : and  by  the  time  I had  finished  my  dressing  for  dinner, 
it  was  quite  clear  to  me  I had  solved  all  the  secret  of  his 
lordship’s  attentions. 


34 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


The  road  to  “ Callonby  ” was  beautiful  beyond  anything  I 
had  ever  seen  in  Ireland.  For  upward  of  two  miles  it  led 
along  the  margin  of  the  lofty  cliffs  of  Moher,  now  jutting  out 
into  bold  promontories,  and  again  retreating,  and  forming 
small  bays  and  mimic  harbors,  into  which  the  heavy  swell  of 
the  broad  Atlantic  was  rolling  its  deep  blue  tide.  The  even- 
ing was  perfectly  calm,  and  at  a little  distance  from  the  shore 
the  surface  of  the  sea  was  without  a ripple.  The  only  sound 
breaking  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  hour  was  the  heavy  plash 
of  the  waves,  as  in  minute  peals  they  rolled  in  upon  the 
pebbly  beach,  and  brought  back  with  them,  at  each  retreat, 
some  of  the  larger  and  smoother  stones,  whose  noise,  as 
they  fell  back  into  old  ocean’s  bed,  mingled  with  the  din  of 
the  breaking  surf.  In  one  of  the  many  little  bays  I passed, 
lay  three  or  four  fishing-smacks.  The  sails  were  drying,  and 
flapped  lazily  against  the  masts.  I could  see  the  figures  of 
the  men  as  they  passed  backward  and  forward  upon  the  decks, 
and  although  the  height  was  nearly  eight  hundred  feet,  could 
hear  their  voices  quite  distinctly.  Upon  the  golden  strand, 
which  was  still  marked  with  a deeper  tint,  where  the  tide 
had  washed,  stood  a little  white  cottage  of  some  fisherman — 
at  least,  so  the  net  before  the  door  bespoke  it.  Around  it, 
stood  some  children,  whose  merry  voices  and  laughing  tones 
sometimes  reached  me  where  I was  standing.  I could  not  but 
think,  as  I looked  down  from  my  lofty  eyrie  upon  that  little 
group  of  boats,  and  that  lone  hut,  how  much  of  the  “ world  ” 
to  the  humble  dweller  beneath,  lay  in  that  secluded  and 
narrow  bay.  There,  the  deep  sea,  where  their  days  were 
passed  in  “ storm  and  sunshine,” — there,  the  humble  home, 
where  at  night  they  rested,  and  around  whose  hearth  lay  all 
their  cares  and  all  their  joys.  How  far,  how  very  far  removed 
from  the  busy  haunts  of  men,  and  all  the  struggles  and  con- 
tentions of  the  ambitious  world  ; and  yet,  how  short-sighted 
to  suppose  that  even  they  had  not  their  griefs  and  sorrows, 
and  that  their  humble  lot  was  devoid  of  the  inheritance  of 
those  woes,  which  all  are  heirs  to. 

I turned  reluctantly  from  the  sea-shore  to  enter  the  gate 
of  the  park,  and  my  path  in  a few  moments  was  as  completely 
screened  from  all  prospect  of  the  sea,  as  though  it  had  lain 
miles  inland.  An  avenue  of  tall  and  ancient  lime-trees,  so 
dense  in  their  shadows  as  nearly  to  conceal  the  road  beneath 
led  for  above  a mile  through  a beautiful  lawn,  whose  surface, 
gently  undulating,  and  studded  with  young  clumps,  was 


HARRY  LORREQUER , 


35 


dotted  over  with  sheep.  At  length,  descending  by  a very 
steep  road,  I reached  a beautiful  little  stream,  over  which  a 
rustic  bridge  was  thrown.  As  I looked  down  upon  the 
rippling  stream  beneath,  on  the  surface  of  which  the  dusky 
evening  flies  were  dipping,  I made  a resolve  ; if  I prospered 
in  his  lordship’s  good  graces,  to  devote  a day  to  the  “ angle  ” 
there,  before  I left  the  country.  It  was  now  growing  late, 
and  remembering  Lord  Kilkee’s  intimation  of  “ sharp  seven,” 
I threw  my  reins  over  my  cob,  “Sir  Roger’s  ” neck  (for  I 
had  hitherto  been  walking),  and  cantered  up  the  steep  hill 
before  me.  When  I reached  the  top,  I found  myself  upon  a 
broad  table-land,  encircled  by  old  and  well-grown  timber, 
and  at  a distance,  most  tastefully  half  concealed  by  ornamen- 
tal painting,  I could  catch  some  glimpse  of  Callonby.  Before 
however,  I had  time  to  look  about  me,  I heard  the  tramp  of 
horses’  feet  behind,  and  in  another  moment  two  ladies 
dashed  up  the  steep  behind,  and  came  toward  me  at  a smart 
gallop,  followed  by  a groom,  who  neither  himself  nor  his 
horse  seemed  to  relish  the  pace  of  his  fair  mistresses.  I 
moved  off  the  road  into  the  grass,  to  permit  them  to  pass ; 
but  no  sooner  had  they  got  abreast  of  me,  than  Sir  Roger, 
anxious  for  a fair  start  flung  up  both  heels  at  once,  pricked 
up  his  ears,  and  with  a plunge  that  very  nearly  threw  me 
from  the  saddle,  set  off  at  top  speed.  My  first  thought  was 
for  the  ladies  beside  me,  and  to  my  utter  horror,  I now  saw 
them  coming  along  at  full  gallop,  their  horses  had  got  off  the 
road,  and  were  to  my  thinking  become  quite  unmanageable. 
I endeavored  to  pull  up,  but  all  in  vain.  Sir  Roger  had  got 
the  bit  between  his  teeth,  a favorite  trick  of  his,  and  I was 
perfectly  powerless  to  hold  him ; by  this  time,  they  being 
mounted  on  thoroughbreds,  got  a full  neck  before  me,  and 
the  pace  was  now  tremendous  ; on  we  all  came,  each  horse 
at  his  utmost  stretch ; they  were  evidently  gaining  from  the 
better  stride  of  their  cattle,  and  will  it  be  believed,  or  shall  I 
venture  to  acknowledge  it  in  these  my  Confessions,  that  I 
who,  a moment  before,  would  have  given  my  best  chance  of 
promotion  to  be  able  to  pull  in  my  horse,  would  now  have 
“ pledged  my  dukedom”  to  be  able  to  give  Sir  Roger  one 
cut  of  the  whip  unobserved.  I leave  it  to  the  wise  to  decipher 
the  rationale , but  such  is  the  fact.  It  was  complete  steeple- 
chasing and  my  blood  was  up. 

On  we  came,  and  I now  perceived  that  about  two  hundred 
yards  before  me  stood  an  iron  gate  and  piers,  without  any 


BARRY  LORREQUER, 


hedge  or  wall  on  either  side ; before  I could  conjecture  the 
meaning  of  so  strange  a thing  in  the  midst  of  a large  lawn,  I 
saw  the  foremost  horse,  now  two  or  three  lengths  before  the 
other,  still  in  advance  of  me,  take  two  or  three  short  strides, 
and  fly  about  eight  feet  over  a sunken  fence — the  second 
followed  in  the  same  style,  the  riders  sitting  as  steadily  as  in 
the  gallop.  It  was  now  my  turn,  and  I confess,  as  I neared 
the  dike,  I heartily  wished  myself  well  over  it,  for  the  very 
possibility  of  a “ mistake  ” was  maddening.  Sir  Roger  came 
on  at  a slapping  pace,  and  when  within  two  yards  of  the 
brink,  rose  to  it,  and  cleared  it  like  a deer.  By  the  time  I 
had  accomplished  this  feat,  not  the  less  to  my  satisfaction 
that  both  ladies  had  turned  in  the  saddles  to  watch  me,  they 
were  already  far  in  advance  ; they  held  on  still  at  the  same 
pace,  round  a small  copse  which  concealed  them  an  instant 
from  my  view,  and  which,  when  I passed,  I perceived  that 
they  had  just  reached  the  hall  door,  and  were  dismount- 
ing. 

On  the  steps  stood  a tall,  elderly-looking,  gentlemanlike 
person,  who  I rightly  conjectured  was  his  lordship.  I heard 
him  laughing  heartily  as  I came  up.  I at  last  succeeded  in 
getting  Sir  Roger  to  a canter,  and  when  about  twenty  yards 
fr6m  where  the  group  were  standing,  sprung  off,  and  hastened 
up  to  make  my  apologies  as  I best  might,  for  my  unfortunate 
.runaway.  I was  fortunately  spared  the  awkwardness  of  an 
explanation,  for  his  lordship,  approaching  me  with  his  hand 
extended,  said  : 

“ Mr.  Lorrequer  is  most  welcome  at  Callonby.  I cannot 
be  mistaken,  I am  sure — I have  the  pleasure  of  addressing 
the  nephew  of  my  old  friend,  Sir  Guy  Lorrequer  of  Felton.  I 
am  indeed  most  happy  to  see  you,  and  not  the  less  so,  that 
you  are  safe  and  sound,  which  five  minutes  since,  I assure  you, 
I had  my  fears  for ” 

Before  I could  assure  his  lordship  that  my  fears  were  all 
for  my  competitors  in  the  race — for  such  in  reality  they  were 
— he  introduced  me  to  the  two  ladies,  who  were  still  stand- 
ing beside  him — Lady  Jane  Callonby;  Mr.  Lorrequer  ; Lady 
Catherine.” 

“ Which  of  you,  young  ladies,  may  I ask,  planned  this 
escapade,  for  I see  by  your  looks,  it  was  no  accident  ? ” 

“ I think,  papa/’  said  Lady  Jane,  “you  must  question  Mr, 
Lorrequer  on  that  head  ! he  certainly  started  first.” 

“ I confess,  indeed,”  said  I.  “such  was  the  case,” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


37 

u Well,  you  must  confess  too,  you  were  distanced,”  said 
Lady  Jane. 

His  lordship  laughed  heartily,  and  I joined  in  his  mirth, 
feeling,  at  the  same  time,  most  terribly  provoked,  to  be 
quizzed  on  such  a matter:  that  I,  a steeple-chase  horseman  of 
the  first  water,  should  be  twitted  by  a couple  of  young  ladies, 
on  the  score  of  a most  manly  exercise.  “ But  come,”  said 
his  lordship,  “ the  first  bell  has  rung  long  since,  and  I am 
longing  to  ask  Mr.  Lorrequer  all  about  my  old  college  friend 
of  forty  years  ago.  So,  ladies,  hasten  your  toilet,  I beseech 
you.” 

With  these  words,  his  lordship,  taking  my  arm,  led  me  into 
the  drawing-room,  where  we  had  not  been  many  minutes  till 
we  were  joined  by  her  ladyship,  a tall,  stately,  handsome 
woman  of  a certain  age ; resolutely  bent  upon  being  both 
young  and  beautiful,  in  spite  of  time  and  wrinkles  ; her  recep- 
tion of  me,  though  not  possessing  the  frankness  of  his  lord- 
ship,  was  still  very  polite,  and  intended  to  be  even  gracious. 
I now  found  by  the  reiterated  inquiries  for  my  old  uncle,  Sir 
Guy,  that  he  it  was,  and  not  Hamlet,  to  whom  I owed  my 
present  notice,  and  I must  include  it  among  my  Confessions, 
that  it  was  about  the  first  advantage  I ever  derived  from  the 
relationship.  After  half  an  hour’s  agreeable  chatting,  the 
ladies  entered,  and  then  I had  time  to  remark  the  extreme 
beauty  of  their  appearance ; they  were  both  wonderfully  like, 
and  except  that  Lady  Jane  was  taller  and  more  womanly,  it 
would  have  been  almost  impossil|le  to  discriminate  between 
them. 

Lady  Jane  Callonby  was  then  about  twenty  years  of  age, 
rather  above  the  middle  size,  and  slightly  disposed  toward 
embonpoint ; her  eye  was  of  the  deepest  and  most  liquid  blue, 
and  rendered  apparently  darker,  by  long  lashes  of  the  blackest 
jet — for  such  was  the  color  of  her  hair ; her  nose  slightly, 
but  slightly,  deviated  from  the  straightness  of  the  Greek,  and 
her  upper  lip  was  faultless,  as  were  her  mouth  and  chin ; the 
whole  lower  part  of  the  face,  from  the  perfect  “ chiseling,” 
and  from  the  carriage  of  her  head,  had  certainly  a great  air 
of  hauteur,  but  the  extreme  melting  softness  of  her  eyes  took 
from  this,  and  when  she  spoke,  there  was  a quiet  earnestness 
in  her  mild  and  musical  voice  that  disarmed  you  at  once  of 
connecting  the  idea  of  self  with  the  speaker  ; the  word  “ fas- 
cinating,” more  than  any  other  I know  of,  conveys  the  effect 
of  her  appearance,  and  to  produce  it,  she  had,  more  than  any 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


other  woman  I ever  met,  that  wonderful  gift,  the  “ Part  dt 

plaire .” 

I was  roused  from  my  perhaps  too  earnest,  because  uncon- 
scious gaze,  at  the  lovely  figure  before  me,  by  his  lordship 
saying,  “ Mr.  Lorrequer,  her  ladyship  is  waiting  for  you.  I 
accordingly  bowed,  and  offering  her  my  arm,  led  her  into  the 
dinner-room.  And  here  I draw  rein  for  the  present,  reserv- 
ing for  my  next  chapter  My  Adventures  at  Callonby. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LIFE  AT  CALLONBY — LOVE-MAKING — MRS.  o’dOWd’s  ADVENT- 
URE. 

My  first  evening  at  Callonby  passed  off  as  nearly  all  first 
evenings  do  everywhere.  His  lordship  was  most  agreeable, 
talked  much  of  my  uncle,  Sir  Guy,  whose  fag  he  had  been  at 
Eton  half  a century  before,  promised  me  some  capital  shoot- 
ing in  his  preserves,  discussed  the  state  of  politics  ; and,  as 
the  second  decanter  of  port  “ waned  apace,”  grew  wondrous 
confidential,  and  told  me  of  his  intention  to  start  his  son  for 
the  county  at  the  next  general  election,  such  being  the 
object  which  had  now  conferred  the  honor  of  his  presence  on 
his  Irish  estates. 

Her  ladyship  was  most  condescendingly  civil,  vouchsafed 
much  tender  commiseration  for  my  “ exile,”  as  she  termed 
my  quarters  at  Kilrush  ; wondered  how  I could  possibly 
exist  in  a marching  regiment  (who  had  never  been  in  the 
cavalry  in  my  life  !),  spoke  quite  feelingly  of  my  kindness  in 
joining  their  stupid  family  party,  for  they  were  living,  to  use 
their  own  phrase,  “ like  hermits ; ” and  wound  up  all  by  a 
playful  assurance  that  as  she  perceived,  from  all  my  answers, 
that  I was  bent  on  preserving  a strict  incognito,  she  would 
tell  no  tales  about  me  on  her  return  to  “Town.”  Now  it 
may  readily  be  believed  that  all  this,  and  many  more  of  her 
ladyship’s  allusions,  were  a “ Chaldee  manuscript  ” to  me  ; 
that  she  knew  certain  facts  of  my  family  and  relations,  was 
certain  ; but  that  she  had  interwoven  in  the  humble  web  of 
my  history  a very  pretty  embroidery  of  fiction  was  equally  so ; 
and  while  she  thus  ran  on,  with  innumerable  allusions  to  Lady 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


39 


Mary  and  Lord  Johns,  who  she  pretended  to  suppose  were 
dying  to  hear  from  me,  I could  not  help  muttering  to  myself 
with  good  Christopher  Sly,  “ And  all  this  be  true — then  Lord 
be  thanked  for  my  good  amends ; ” for  up  to  that  moment  I 
was  an  ungrateful  man  for  all  this  high  and  noble  solicitude. 
One  dark  doubt  shot  for  an  instant  across  my  brain.  Maybe 
her  ladyship  had  “ registered  a vow  ” never  to  syllable  a 
name  unchronicled  by  Debrett,  or  was  actually  only  mysti- 
fying me  for  mere  amusement.  A minute’s  consideration 
dispelled  this  fear  : for  I found  myself  treated  “ en  Seigneur” 
by  the  whole  family.  As  for  the  daughters  of  the  house,  noth- 
ing could  possibly  be  more  engaging  than  their  manner. 
The  eldest,  Lady  Jane,  was  pleased  from  my  near  relation- 
ship to  her  father’s  oldest  friend  to  receive  me,  “ from  the 
first,”  on  the  most  friendly  footing,  while,  with  the  younger, 
Lady  Catherine,  from  her  being  less  manikre  than  her  sister, 
my  progress  was  even  greater  ; and  thus,  before  we  separated 
for  the  night,  I contrived  to  “ take  up  my  position  ” in  such 
a fashion  as  to  be  already  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  family 
party,  to  which  object,  Lord  and  indeed  Lady  Callonby, 
seemed  most  willing  to  contribute,  and  made  me  promise  to 
spend  the  entire  of  the  following  day  at  Callonby,  and  as 
many  of  the  succeeding  ones  as  my  military  duties  would 
permit. 

As  his  lordship  was  wishing  me  “ good-night”  at  the  door 
of  the  drawing-room,  he  said,  in  a half  whisper, 

“ We  were  ignorant  yesterday,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  how  soon 
we  should  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  here  ; and  you 
are  therefore  condemned  to  a small  room  off  the  library,  it 
being  the  only  one  we  can  insure  you  as  being  well  aired.  I 
must  therefore  apprise  you  that  you  are  not  to  be  shocked 
at  finding  yourself  surrounded  by  every  member  of  the  family, 
hung  up  in  frames  around  you.  But  as  the  room  is  usually 
my  own  snuggery,  I have  resigned  it  without  any  alteration 
whatever.” 

The  apartment  for  which  his  lordship  had  so  strongly 
apologized  stood  in  very  pleasant  contrast  to  my  late  one  in 
Kilrush.  The  soft  Persian  carpet,  on  which  one’s  feet  sank 
to  the  very  ankles,  the  brightly  polished  dogs,  upon  which  a 
blazing  fire  burned  ; the  well  upholstered  fauteuils  which 
seemed  to  invite  sleep  without  the  trouble  of  lying  down  for 
it ; and  last  of  all,  the  ample  and  luxurious  bed,  upon  whose 
rich  purple  hangings  the  ruddy  glare  of  the  fire  threw  a most 


4° 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


mellow  light,  was  all  a pleasing  exchange  for  the  44 garniture  ” 
of  the  “ Hotel  Healy.” 

“ Certes,  Harry  Lorrequer,”  said  I,  as  I threw  myself  upon 
a small  ottoman  before  the  fire  in  all  the  slippered  ease  and 
abandon  of  a man  who  has  changed  a dress  coat  for  a morn- 
ing-gown ; “ Certes,  thou  art  destined  for  great  things  ; even 
here,  where  fate  had  seemed  4 to  do  his  worst , to  thee,  a 
little  paradise  opens,  and  what,  to  ordinary  mortals  had 
proved  but  a 4 flat,  stale,  and  most  unprofitable  ’ quarter, 
presents  to  thee  all  the  accumulated  delight  of  a hospitable 
mansion,  a kind,  almost  friendly  host,  a condescending 
Madame  Mere,  and  daughters  too  ! All,  ye  Gods  ! but  what 
is  this  ? ” and  here,  for  the  first  time,  lifting  up  my  eyes,  I 
perceived  a beautiful  water-color  drawing  in  the  style  of 
44  Chalon,”  which  was  placed  above  the  chimney-piece.  I 
rose  at  once,  and  taking  a candle,  proceeded  to  examine  it 
more  minutely.  It  was  a portrait  of  Lady  Jane,  a full-length, 
too,  and  wonderfully  like  ; there  was  more  complexion,  and 
perhaps  more  roundness  in  the  figure  than  her  present  appear- 
ance would  justify  ; but  if  anything  was  gained  in  brilliancy, 
it  was  certainly  lost  in  point  of  expression ; and  I infinitely 
perferred  her  pale,  but  beautifully  fair  countenance,  to  the 
rosy  cheek  of  the  picture  ; the  figure  was  faultless  ; the  same 
easy  grace,  the  result  of  perfect  symmetry  and  refinement 
together  which  only  one  in  a thousand  of  even  handsome 
girls  possess,  was  portrayed  to  the  life.  The  more  I looked, 
the  more  I felt  charmed  with  it.  Never  had  I seen  any- 
thing so  truly  characteristic  as  this  sketch,  for  it  was  scarcely 
more.  It  was  after  nearly  an  hour’s  quiet  contemplation, 
that  I began  to  remember  the  lateness  of  the  night ; an  hour 
in  which  my  thoughts  had  rambled  from  the  lovely  object 
before  me,  to  wonder  at  the  situation  in  which  I found  my- 
self placed  ; for  there  was  so  much  of  44  empressement  ” 
toward  me,  in  the  manner  of  every  member  of  the  family, 
coupled  with  certain  mistakes  as  to  my  habits  and  acquaint- 
ances, as  left  me  perfectly  unable  to  unravel  the  mystery 
which  so  evidently  surrounded  me.  44  Perhaps,”  thought  I, 

44  Sir  Guy  has  written  in  my  behalf  to  his  lordship.  Oh,  he 
would  never  do  anything  half  so  civil.  Well,  to  be  sure,  I 
shall  astonish  them  at  head-quarters ; they’ll  not  believe  this. 

I wonder  if  Lady  Jane  saw  my  4 Hamlet ;’  for  they  landed  in 
Gork  from  Bristol  about  that  time.  She  is  indeed  a most  < 
beautiful  girl.  I wish  I were  a marquis,  if  it  were  only  for 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


41 


her  sake.  Well,  my  Lord  Callonby,  you  may  be  a very  wise 
man  in  the  House  of  Lords  ; but,  I would  just  ask,  is  it  ex- 
actly prudent  to  introduce  into  your  family,  on  terms  of  such 
perfect  intimacy,  a }^oung,  fascinating,  well-looking  fellow  of 
four-and-twenty,  albeit  only  a subaltern,  with  two  such  daugh- 
ters as  you  have  ? Peut-etre  / One  thing  is  certain — / have 
no  cause  of  complaint ; and  so,  good-night,  Lady  Jane  — 
and  with  these  words  I fell  asleep,  to  dream  of  the  deepest 
blue  eyes,  and  the  most  melting  tones  that  ever  reduced  a 
poor  lieutenant  in  a marching  regiment  to  curse  his  fate,  that 
he  could  not  call  the  commander  of  the  forces  his  father. 

When  I descended  to  the  breakfast-room,  I found  the 
whole  family  assembled  in  a group  around  Lqrd  Kilkee,  who 
had  just  returned  from  a distant  part  of  the  county,  where 
he  had  been  canvassing  the  electors,  and  spouting  patriotism 
the  day  before.  He  was  giving  an  account  of  his  progress 
with  much  spirit  and  humor  as  I entered,  but,  on  seeing  me, 
immediately  came  forward,  and  shook  hands  with  me  like 
an  old  acquaintance.  By  Lord  Callonby  and  the  ladies  1 
was  welcomed  also  with  much  courtesy  and  kindness,  and 
some  slight  badinage  passed  upon  my  sleeping,  in  what  Lord 
Kilkee  called  the  “ Picture  Gallery,”  which,  for  all  I knew 
to  the  contrary,  contained  but  one  fair  portrait.  I am  not  a 
believer  in  Mesmer ; but  certainly  there  must  have  been 
some  influence  at  work — very  like  what  we  hear  of  “ magnet- 
ism ” — for  before  the  breakfast  was  concluded,  there  seemed 
at  once  to  spring  up  a perfect* understanding  between  this 
family  and  myself,  which  made  me  feel  as  much  chez-moi , as  I 
had  ever  done  in  my  life  ; and  from  that  hour  I may  date  an 
intimacy  which  every  succeeding  day  but  served  to  increase. 

After  breakfast  Lord  Callonby  consigned  me  to  the  guid- 
ance of  his  son,  and  we  sallied  forth  to  deal  destruction 
amongst  the  pheasants,  with  which  the  preserves  were  stocked  ; 
and  here  I may  observe,  en  passant , that  with  the  single  ex- 
ception of  fox-hunting,  which  was  ever  a passion  with  me,  I 
never  could  understand  that  inveterate  pursuit  of  game  to 
which  some  men  devote  themselves — thus,  grouse-shooting, 
and  its  attendant  pleasures,  of  stumping  over  a boggy  mountain 
from  daylight  till  dark,  never  had  much  attraction  for  me ; 
and,  as  to  the  delights  of  widgeon  and  wild-duck  shooting, 
when  purchased  by  sitting  up  all  night  in  a barrel,  with  your 
eye  to  the  bung,  I’ll  none  of  it — no,  no  1 give  me  shooting  or 
angling  merely  as  a divertimento , a pleasant  interlude  between 


42 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


breakfast  and  luncheon-time,  when,  consigning  your  Manton 
to  a corner,  and  the  gamekeeper  “ to  the  dogs,”  you  once 
more  humanize  your  costume  to  take  a canter  with  the 
daughters  of  the  house  ; or,  if  the  day  look  loweringly,  a match 
of  billiards  with  the  men. 

I have  ever  found  that  the  happiest  portions  of  existence 
are  the  most  difficult  to  chronicle.  We  may — nay,  we  must — 
impart  our  miseries  and  annoyances  to  our  many  “ dear 
friends,”  whose  forte  is  sympathy  or  consolation — and  all 
men  are  eloquent  on  the  subject  of  their  woes  ; not  so  with 
their  joys;  some  have  a miser-like  pleasure  in  hoarding  them 
up  for  their  own  private  gratification  ; others — and  they  are 
prudent — feel  that  the  narrative  is  scarcely  agreeable  even 
to  their  best  friends  ; and  a few,  of  whom  I confess  myself 
one,  are  content  to  be  happy  without  knowing  why,  and  to 
have  pleasant  souvenirs  without  being  able  to  explain  them. 

Such  must  be  my  apology  for  not  more  minutely  entering 
upon  an  account  of  my  life  at  Callonby.  A fortnight  had 
now  seen  me  enfa?icc,  the  daily  companion  of  two  beautiful 
girls  in  all  their  walks  and  rides,  through  a romantic,  un- 
frequented country,  seeing  but  little  of  the  other  members  of 
the  family ; the  gentlemen  being  entirely  occupied  by  their 
election  tactics,  and  Lady  Callonby,  being  a late  riser,  sel- 
dom appeared  before  the  dinner  hour  There  was  not  a cliff 
upon  the  bold  and  rocky  coast  we  did  not  climb,  not  a cave 
upon  the  pebbly  beach  unvisited ; sometimes  my  fair  com- 
panions would  bring  a volume  of  Metastasio  down  to  the  little 
river  where  I used  to  angle  ; and  the  “ gentle  craft  ” was  often 
abandoned  for  the  heart  thrilling  verses  of  that  delightful 
poet.  Yes,  many  years  have  passed  over,  and  these  scenes 
are  still  as  fresh  in  my  memory  as  though  they  had  been  of 
yesterday.  In  my  memory,  I say,  as  for  thee 

“ Qui  sa  si  te 
Ti  soverai  di  me.” 

At  the  end  of  three  weeks  the  house  became  full  of  com- 
pany, from  the  garret  to  the  cellar.  Country  gentlemen  and 
their  wives  and  daughters  came  pouring  in,  on  every  species 
of  conveyance  known  since  the  flood  ; family  coaches,  which, 
but  for  their  yellow  panels,  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
hearses,  and  high  barouches,  the  “ entrde  ” to  which  was 
accomplished  by  a step-ladder,  followed  each  other  in  what 


IIARRY  LORREQUER. 


43 


appeared  a never  ending  succession  ; and  here  I may  note  an 
instance  of  the  anomalous  character  of  the  conveyances,  from 
an  incident  to  which  I was  a witness  at  the  time. 

Among  the  visitors  on  the  second  day  came  k maiden  lady 
from  the  neighborhood  of  Ennistimon,  Miss  Elizabeth 
O’Dowd,  the  last  of  a very  old  and  highly  respectable  family 
in  the  county,  and  whose  extensive  property,  thickly  studded 
with  freeholders,  was  a strong  reason  for  her  being  paid  every 
attention  in  Lord  Callonby’s  power  to  bestow.  Miss  Betty 
O’ Dowd — for  so  she  was  generally  styled — was  the  very  per- 
sonification of  an  old  maid  ; stiff  as  a ramrod,  and  so  rigid  in 
observance  of  the  proprieties  of  female  conduct,  that  in  the 
estimation  of  the  Clare  gentry,  Diana  was  a hoyden  compared 
to  her. 

Miss  Betty  lived,  as  I have  said,  near  Ennistimon,  and  the 
road  from  thence  to  Callonby,  at  the  time  I speak  of — it  was 
before  Mr.  Nimmo — was  as  like  the  bed  of  a mountain  torrent 
as  a respectable  highway  ; there  were  holes  that  would  have 
made  a grave  for  any  maiden  lady  within  fifty  miles ; and 
rocks  thickly  scattered,  enough  to  prove  fatal  to  the  strongest 
wheels  that  ever  issued  from  “ Hutton’s.”  Miss  O’Dowd 
knew  this  well ; she  had  upon  one  occasion  been  upset  in 
travelling  it — and  a slate-colored  silk  dress  bore  the  dye  of 
every  species  of  mud  and  mire  to  be  found  there,  for  many  a 
year  after  to  remind  her  of  her  misfortune,  and  keep  open 
the  wound  of  her  sorrow.  When,  therefore,  the  invitation  to 
Callonby  arrived,  a grave  council  of  war  was  summoned  to 
deliberate  upon  the  mode  of  transit,  for  the  honor  could  not 
be  declined,  coute  qui  coute . The  chariot  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion; Nicholas  declared  it  would  never  reach  the  “ Moraan 
Beg,”  as  the  first  precipice  was  called ; the  inside  car  was 
long  since  pronounced  unfit  for  hazardous  enterprise  ; and 
the  only  resource  left  was  what  is  called  in  Hibernian  par- 
lance a “ low-backed  car  ” — that  is,  a car,  without  any  back 
whatever,  it  being  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  common 
agricultural  conveyance  of  the  country,  upon  which,  a feather 
bed  being  laid,  the  farmers’  wives  and  daughters  are  generally 
conveyed  to  fairs,  wakes,  and  stations,  etc.  Putting  her  dig- 
nity, if  not  in  her  pocket,  at  least  wherever  it  could  be  most 
easily  accommodated,  Miss  O’Dowd  placed  her  fair  self,  in 
all  the  plenitude  of  her  charms  and  the  grandeur  of  a “ bran 
new  green  silk,”  a “ little  off  the  grass,  and  on  the  bottle  ” (I 
love  to  be  particular),  upon  this  humble  voiture,  and  set  out  on 


44 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


her  way,  if  not  “ rejoicing,”  at  least  consoled  by  Nicholas  that 
“ It  ’id  be  black-dark  when  they  reached  the  house,  and  the 
devil  a one  ’id  be  the  wiser  than  if  she  came  in  a coach  and 
four.”  Nicholas  was  right ; it  was  perfectly  dark  on  their 
arrival  at  Callonby,  and  Miss  O’Dowd  having  dismounted 
and  shaken  her  plumage — a little  crumpled  by  her  half  re- 
cumbent position  for  eight  miles — appeared  in  the  drawing- 
room, to  receive  the  most  courteous  attentions  from  Lady 
Callonby,  and  from  his  lordship  the  most  flattering  speeches 
for  her  kindness  in  risking  herself  and  bringing  her  horses 
on  such  a dreadful  road,  and  assured  her  of  his  getting  a 
presentment  the  very  next  assizes  to  repair  it ; for  we  intend, 
Miss  O’Dowd,”  said  he,  “ to  be  most  troublesome  neighbors 
to  )^ou  in  future.” 

The  evening  passed  off  most  happily.  Miss  O’Dowd  was 
delighted  with  her  hosts,  whose  character  she  resolved  to 
maintain  in  spite  of  their  reputation  for  pride  and  haughtiness. 
Lady  Jane  sang  an  Irish  melody  for  her.  Lady  Callonby 
gave  her  slips  of  a rose  geranium  she  got  from  the  Princess 
Augusta,  and  Lord  Kilkee  won  her  heart  by  the  performance 
of  that  most  graceful  step  ’yclept  “ cover  the  buckle  ” in  an 
Irish  jig.  But,  alas  ! how  short-lived  is  human  bliss  ; for 
while  this  estimable  lady  revelled  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
hour,  the  sword  of  Damocles  hung  suspended  above  her 
head  ; in  plain  English,  she  had,  on  arriving  at  Callonby,  to 
prevent  any  unnecessary  scrutiny  into  the  nature  of  her  con- 
veyance, ordered  Nicholas  to  be  at  the  door  punctually  at 
eleven ; and  then  take  an  opportunity  of  quietly  slipping  open 
the  drawing-room  door,  and  giving  her  an  intimation  of  it, 
that  she  might  take  her  leave  at  once.  Nicholas  was  up  to 
time,  and  having  disposed  the  conveyance  under  the  shadow 
of  the  porch,  he  made  his  way  to  the  door  of  the  drawing- 
room unseen  and  unobserved.  He  opened  it  gently  and 
noiselessly,  merely  sufficient  to  take  a survey  of  the  apart- 
ment, in  which,  from  the  glare  of  the  lights,  and  the  busy  hum 
of  voices,  he  was  so  bewildered  that  it  was  some  minutes 
before  he  recognized  his  mistress.  At  last  he  perceived  her ; 
she  was  seated  at  a card-table,  playing  whist  with  Lord  Cal- 
lonby for  her  partner.  Who  the  other  players  were,  he  knew 
not.  A proud  man  was  Nicholas,  as  he  saw  his  mistress  thus 
placed,  actually  sitting,  as  he  afterward  expressed  it,  “ fore- 
nint  the  lord,”  but  his  thoughts  were  bent  on  other  matters, 
and  it  was  no  time  to  indulge  his  vauntings. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


45 


He  strove  for  some  time,  patiently,  to  catch  her  eye,  for 
she  was  so  situated  as  to  permit  of  this,  but  without  success. 
He  then  made  a slight  attempt  to  attract  her  attention,  by 
beckoning  with  his  finger ; all  in  vain.  44  O murther,”  said 
he,  44  what  is  this  for  ? Fll  have  to  spake  afther  all.” 

44  Four  by  honors,”  said  his  lordship,  44  and  the  odd  trick. 
Another  double,  I believe,  Miss  O’Dowd.” 

Miss  O’Dowd  nodded  a graceful  assent,  while  a sharp- 
looking old  dowager  at  the  side  of  the  table  called  out,  44  a 
rubber  of  four  on,  my  lord,”  and  now  began  an  explanation 
from  the  whole  party  at  once.  Nicholas  saw  this  was  his 
time,  and  thought  that  in  the  melee  his  hint  might  reach  his 
mistress  unobserved  by  the  remainder  of  the  company.  He 
accordingly  protruded  his  head  into  the  room,  and  placing 
his  finger  upon  the  side  of  his  nose,  and  shutting  one  eye 
knowingly,  with  an  air  of  great  secrecy,  whispered  out, 
44  Miss  Betty — Miss  Betty,  alanah!  ” For  some  minutes  the 
*hum  of  the  voices  drowned  his  admonitions — but,  as  by 
degrees  waxing  warmer  in  the  cause,  he  called  out  more 
loudly — every  eye  was  turn  to  the  spot  from  whence  these 
extraordinary  sounds  proceeded,  and  certainly  the  appearance 
of  Nicholas  at  that  moment  was  well  calculated  to  astonish  the 
44  klegans  ” of  a drawing-room.  With  his  one  eye  fixed  eagerly 
in  the  direction  of  his  mistress,  his  red  scratch  wig  pushed 
back  off  his  forehead,  in  the  eagerness  of  his  endeavor  to  be 
heard,  there  he  stood,  perfectly  unmindfuL  of  all  around, 
save  Miss  O’Dowd  herself.  It  may  well  behhelieved,  that 
such  an  apparition  could  not  be  witnessed  with' gravity,  and 
accordingly,  a general  titter  ran  through  the  room,  the  whist 
party,  still  contending  about  odd  tricks  and  honors,  being 
the  only  persons  insensible  to  the  mirth  around  them — 
44  Miss  Betty,  arrah,  Miss  Betty,”  said  Nicholas,  with  a sigh 
that  converted  the  subdued  laughter  of  the  guest  into  a 
perfect  burst  of  mirth. 

44  Eh,”  said  his  lordship,  turning  round,  44  what  is  this  ? we 
are  losing  something  excellent,  I fear.” 

At  this  moment  he  caught  a glimpse  of  Nicholas,  and, 
throwing  himself  back  in  his  chair,  laughed  immoderately. 
It  was  now  Miss  Betty’s  turn  ; she  was  about  to  rise  from  the 
table,  when  the  well-known  accents  of  Nicholas  fell  upon  her 
ear.  She  fell  back  in  her  seat — there  he  was  ; the  messenger 
of  the  foul  fiend  himself  would  have  been  more  welcome  at 
that  moment.  Her  blood  rushed  to  her  face  and  temples; 


46 


HARR  V LORREQUER . . 


her  hands  tingled  ; she  closed  her  eyes,  and  when  she  opened 
them  there  stood  the  accursed  Nicholas  glowering  at  her 
still. 

“ Man — man  ! ” said  she,  at  length ; “ what  do  you  mean, 
what  do  you  want  here  ? ” 

Poor  Nicholas,  little  guessing  that  the  question  was  in- 
tended to  throw  a doubt  upon  her  acquaintance  with  him, 
and  conceiving  that  the  hour  for  the  announcement  had  come, 
hesitated  for  an  instant,  how  he  should  designate  the  convey- 
ance. He  could  not  call  it  a coach  ! it  certainly  was  not  a 
buggy — neither  was  it  a jaunting-car — what  should  he  say — • 
he  looked  earnestly,  and  even  imploringly  at  his  mistress,  as 
if  to  convey  some  sense  of  his  difficulty,  and  then,  as  it  were, 
catching  a sudden  inspiration,  winked  once  more,  as  he 
said : 

“ Miss  Betty — the — the — the — *’  and  here  he  looked  inde- 
scribably droll ; c<  the  thing,  you  know,  is  at  the  door.” 

All  his  lordship’s  politeness  was  too  little  for  the  occasion 
and  Miss  O’Dowd’s  tenantry  were  lost  to  the  Callonby  inter- 
est forever. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BOTANICAL  STUDIES — THE  NATURAL  SYSTEM  PREFERABLE  TO 
THE  LINN^EAN. 

Q 

“ The  carriage  is  at  the  door,  my  lord,”  said  a servant,  en- 
tering the  luncheon-room  where  we  were  all  assembled. 

“ Now  then,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  Lord  Callonby,  “allons! 
take  another  glass  of  wine,  and  let  us  away.  I expect  you 
to  make  a most  brilliant  speech,  remember ! ” 

His  lordship  here  alluded  to  our  intention  of  visiting  a 
remote  barony,  where  a meeting  of  the  freeholders  was  that 
day  to  be  held,  and  at  which  I was  pledged  for  a “ neat  and 
appropriate  ” oration  in  abuse  of  the  Corn  Laws  and  the  Holy 
Alliance. 

“ I beg  pardon,  my  lord,”  said  her  ladyship,  in  a most  lan- 
guishing tone,  “ but  Mr.  Lorrequer  is  pre-engaged  ; he  has  for 
the  last  week  been  promising  and  deferring  his  visit  to  the 
new  conservatory  with  me  ; where  he  is  to  find  out  four  or 
five  of  the  Swiss  shrubs  that  Collins  cannot  make  out — and 
which  I am  dying  to  know  all  about.” 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 


47 


“ Mr.  Lorrequer  is  a false  man,  then,”  said  Lady  Catherine, 
“ for  he  said  at  breakfast,  that  we  should  devote  this  after- 
noon to  the  chalk  caves — as  the  tide  will  be  so  far  out,  we 
can  see  them  all  perfectly.” 

“ And  I,”  said  Lord  Kilkee,  “ must  put  in  my  plea  that 
the  aforesaid  Mr.  Lorrequer  is  booked  for  a coursing  match— 
‘ Mouche  versus  Jessie.’  Guilty  or  not  guilty  ? ” 

Lady  Jane  alone  of  all  said  not  a word. 

“ Guilty  on  every  count  of  the  indictment,”  said  I ; “ I 
throw  myself  on  the  mercy  of  the  court.” 

“ Let  his  sentence  then  be  banishment,  ” said  Lady  Cath- 
erine, with  affected  anger,  “ and  let  him  go  with  papa.” 

“ I rather  think,”  said  Lord  Kilkee,  “ the  better  plan  is  to 
let  him  visit  the  conservatory,  for  I’d  wager  a fifty  he  finds 
it  more  difficult  to  invent  botany,  than  canvass  freeholders  ; 
eh?  ” 

“ I am  sure,”  said  Lady  Jane,  for  the  first  time  breaking 
silence,  “ that  mamma  is  infinitely  flattered  by  the  pro- 
posal that  Mr.  Lorrequer’s  company  is  to  be  conferred  upon 
her  for  his  sins.” 

“ I am  not  to  be  affronted,  nor  quizzed  out  of  my  chap- 
eron : here,  Mr.  Lorrequer, said  Lady  Callonby,  rising, 
“ get  Smith’s  book  there,  and  let  me  have  your  arm  ; and 
now,  young  ladies,  come  along,  and  learn  something,  if  you 
can.” 

“ An  admirable  proviso,”  said  Lord  Kilkee,  laughing  ; “ if 
his  botany  be  only  as  authentic  as  the  autographs  he  gave 
Mrs.  MacDermot,  and  all  of  which  he  wrote  himself  in  my 
dressing-room  in  half  an  hour.  Napoleon  was  the  only  diffi- 
cult one  in  the  number.” 

Most  fortunately  this  unfair  disclosure  did  not  reach  her 
ladyship’s  ears,  as  she  was  busily  engaged  putting  on  her 
bonnet,  and  I was  yet  unassailed  in  reputation  to  her. 

“ Good-bye,  then,”  said  Lord  Callonby ; “ we  meet  at 
seven ; ” and  in  a few  moments  the  little  party  were  scat- 
tered to  their  several  destinations. 

“ How  very  hot  you  have  this  place,  Collins,”  said  Lady 
Callonby,  as  we  entered  the  conservatory. 

“ Only  seventy-five,  my  lady,  and  the  Magnolias  require 
heat.”  I here  dropped  a little  behind,  as  if  to  examine  a 
plant,  and  in  a half  whisper  said  to  Lady  Jane: 

“ How  came  it  that  you  alone,  Lady  Jane,  should  forget  I 
had  made  another  appointment  ? I thought  you  wished  to 


*8 


HARRY  L ORREQ UER. 


make  a sketch  of  Craigmorgan  Abbey — did  you  forget  that 
we  were  to  ride  there  to-day  ? ” 

Before  she  could  reply,  Lady  Callonby  called  out : “ Oh, 
here  it  is,  Mr.  Lorrequer.  Is  this  a heath  ? that  is  the  ques- 
tion.” 

Here  her  ladyship  pointed  to  a little  scrubby  thing,  that 
looked  very  like  a birch  rod.  I proceeded  to  examine  it  most 
minutely,  while  Collins  waited  with  all  the  intense  anxiety  of 
a man  whose  character  depended  on  the  sentence. 

Collins  will  have  it  a Jungermania,”  said  she. 

“ And  Collins  is  right,”  said  I,  not  trusting  myself  with  the 
pronunciation  of  the  awful  word  her  ladyship  uttered. 

Collins  looked  ridiculously  happy. 

“ Now  that  is  so  delightful,”  said'Lady  Callonby,  as  she 
sropped  to  look  for  another  puzzle. 

“ What  $ wretch  it  is,”  said  Lady  Catherine,  covering  her 
face  with  a handkerchief. 

“ What  a beautiful  little  flower,”  said  Lady  Jane,  lifting  up 
the  bell  of  a “ lobelia  splendens.” 

“ You  know,  of  course,”  said  I,  “ what  they  call  that  flower 
in  France — L’amour  tendre.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

“ True,  I assure  you  ; may  I present  you  with  a sprig  of 
it  ? ” cutting  off  a small  twig,  and  presenting  it  at  the  same 
instant  unseen  by  the  others. 

She  hesitated  for  an  instant,  and  then  extending  her  fair 
and  taper  hand  took  it.  I dared  not  look  at  her  as  she  did  so, 
but  a proud  swelling  triumph  at  my  heart  nearly  choked  me. 

“ Now,  Collins,”  said  Lady  Callonby,  “ I cannot  find  the 
Alpen  tree  I brought  from  the  Grundenwald.” 

Collins  hurried  forward  to  her  ladyship’s  side. 

Lady  Catherine  was  also  called  to  assist  in  the  search. 

I was  alone  with  Lady  Jane. 

“ Now  or  never,”  thought  1 ; I hesitated — I stammered — - 
my  voice  faltered.  She  saw  my  agitation  ; she  participated 
in,  and  increased  it.  At  last  I summoned  up  my  courage  to 
touch  her  hand  ; she  gently  withdrew  it — but  so  gently,  it 
was  not  a repulse. 

“ If,  Lady  Jane,”  said  I at  length,  “ if  the  devoted ” 

“ Holloa,  there,”  said  a deep  voice  without  : “ is  Mr. 
Lorrequer  there  ? ” 

It  was  Lord  Kilkee  returned  from  his  coursing  match. 
None  but  he  who  has  felt  such  an  interruption,  can  feel  for 


HARR  V L ORREQ  HER. 


49 


me.  I shame  to  say  that  his  brotherhood  to  her  for  whom  I 
would  have  periled  my  life,  restrained  me  not  from  something 
like  a very  hearty  commendation  of  him  to  the  powers  that 
burn 

“ Down,  dogs,  there — down,”  continued  he,  and  in  a 
moment  after  entered  the  conservatory  flushed  and  heated 
with  the  chase. 

“ Mouche  is  the  winner — two  to  one — and  so,  Master 
Shallow,  I owe  you  a thousand  pounds.” 

Would  to  heaven  that  I had  lost  the  wager,  had  it  only 
taken  a little  longer  to  decide  it ! I of  course  appeared  over- 
joyed at  my  dog’s  success,  and  listened  with  great  pretence 
of  interest  to  the  narrative  of  the  “ run  ; ” the  more  so,  be- 
cause that  though  perhaps  more  my  friend  than  the  elder 
members  of  the  family,  Lord  Kilkee  evidently  liked  less 
than  them  my  growing  intimacy  with  his  sister  ; and  I was 
anxious  to  blind  him  on  the  present  occasion,  when,  but 
for  his  recent  excitement,  very  little  penetration  would  have 
enabled  him  to  detect  that  something  unusual  had  taken 
place. 

It  was  now  so  nearly  dark,  that  her  ladyship’s  further 
search  for  the  alpine  treasure  became  impossible  and  so  we 
turned  our  steps  towards  the  garden,  where  we  continued  to 
walk  till  joined  by  Lord  Callonby.  And  now  began  a most 
active  discussion  upon  agriculture,  rents,  tithes,  and  toryism, 
in  which  the  ladies  took  but  little  part  ; and  I had  the 
mortification  to  perceive  that  Lady  Jand  was  excessively 
ennuyke , and  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  leave  the  party 
and  return  to  the  house ; while  her  sister  gave  me  from  time 
to  time  certain  knowing  glances,  as  if  intimating  that  my 
knowledge  of  farming  and  political  economy  was  pretty  much 
on  a par  with  my  proficiency  in  botany. 

“ One  has  discovered  me  at  least,”  thought  I ; but  the  bell 
had  rung  to  dress  for  dinner,  and  I hastened  to  my  room  to 
think  over  future  plans,  and  once  more  wonder  at  the  singular 
position  into  which  fate  and  the  “ rules  of  the  service  ” had 
thrown  me. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


S° 


CHAPTER  V. 

PUZZLED EXPLANATION MAKES  BAD  WORSE THE  DUEL. 

“ Any  letters  ? ” said  her  ladyhip  to  a servant,  as  she 
crossed  the  hall. 

“ Only  one,  my  lady — for  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I believe.” 

“ For  me,”  thought  I:  “ how  is  this?”  My  letters  had 
been  hitherto  always  left  in  Kilrush.  Why  was  this  for- 
warded here  ? I hurried^to  the  drawing-room,  where  I found 
a double  letter  awaiting  me.  The  writing  was  Curzon’s,  and 
contained  the  words  “to  be  forwarded  with  haste  ” on  the 
direction.  I opened  and  read  as  follows  : 

“ Dear  Lorrequer, — Have  you  any  recollection,  among 
your  numerous  4 escapades  ’ at  Cork,  of  having  grievously 
insulted  a Mr.  Giles  Beamish,  in  thought,  word,  or  d$ed  ? 
If  you  have,  I say,  let  me  know  with  all  convenient  dispatch 
whether  the  offence  be  one  admitting  of  apology — for  if  not 
the  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  soul — a more  wrothy  gentle- 
man than  the  aforesaid  it  having  rarely  been  my  evil  fortune 
to  foregather  with.  He  called  here  yesterday  to  inquire  your 
address,  and  at  my  suggestion  wrote  a note,  which  I now 
enclose.  I write  in  great  haste,  and  am  yours  ever  faith- 
fully,  C.  CURZON. 

“ N.B. — I have  not  seen  his  note,  so  explain  all  and  every- 
thing.” 

The  enclosed  letter  ran  thus  : 

“ Sir, — It  can  scarcely  have  escaped  your  memory,  though 
now  nearly  two  months  since,  that  at  the  Mayor’s  d^juner  in 
Cork  you  were  pleased  to  make  merry  at  my  expense,  and 
expose  me  and  my  family  for  your  amusement.  This  is  to 
demand  an  immediate  apology,  or  that  satisfaction  which,  as 
an  officer,  you  will  not  refuse  your  most  obedient  servant. 

“ Giles  Beamish. 


Swinburne  Hotel.’ 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


5* 

" Giles  Beamish  ! Giles  Beamish  ! ” said  I,  repeating  the 
name  in  every  variety  of  emphasis,  hoping  to  obtain  some 
clew  to  the  writer.  Had  I been  appointed  the  umpire  be- 
tween Dr.  Wall  and  his  reviewers  in  the  late  controversy 
about  “phonetic  signs,”  I could  not  have  been  more  com- 
pletely puzzled  than  by  the  contents  of  this  note.  “ Make 
merry  at  his  expense  ! ” a great  offence  truly — I suppose  I 
have  laughed  at  better  men  than  ever  he  was ; and  I can 
only  say  of  such  innocent  amusement,  as  Falstaff  did  of  sack 
and  sugar,  if  such  be  a sin,  “ then  heaven  help  the  wicked.” 
But  I wish  I knew  who  he  is,  or  what  he  alludes  to,  provided 
he  is  not  mad,  which  I begin  to  think  not  improbable. 
“ By  the  bye,  my  lord,  do  you  know  any  such  person  in  the 
south  as  a Mr.  Beamish — Giles  Beamish  ? ” 

“ To  be  sure,”  said  Lord  Callonby,  looking  up  from  his 
newspaper,  “ there  are  several  of  the  name  of  the  highest 
respeciability  One  is  an  alderman  of  Cork — a very  rich 
man,  too — but  I don’t  remember  his  Christian  name.” 

“ An  alderman,  did  you  say  ? ” 

“Yes.  Alderman  Beamish  is  very  well  known.  I have 
seen  him  frequently — a short,  florid,  little  man.” 

“ Oh,  it  must  be  him,”  said  I,  musingly ; “ it  must  have  been 
this  worthy  alderman,  from  whose  worshipful  person  I tore 
the  robe  of  office  on  the  night  of  the  fete.  But  what  does  he 
mean  by  4 my  exposing  him  and  his  family  ? ’ Why,  zounds 
his  wife  and  children  were  not  with  him  on  the  pavement. 
Oh,  I see  it,  it  is  the  mansion-house  school  of  eloquence  ; did 
not  Sir  William  Curtis  apologize  for  not  appearing  at  court, 
from  having  lost  an  eye,  which  he  designated  as  an  awful 
6 domestic  calamity.’  ” 

It  being  now  settled  to  my  satisfaction  that  Mr.  Beamish 
and  the  great  uncloaked  were  “convertible  terms,”  I set 
about  making  the  amende  in  the  most  handsome  manner  pos- 
sible. I wrote  to  the  alderman  a most  pacific  epistle  reget- 
ting that  my  departure  from  Cork  deprived  me  of  making 
reparation  before,  and  expressing  a most  anxious  hope  that 
“ he  caught  no  cold,”  and]  a fervent  wish  that  “ he  would  live 
many  years  to  grace  and  ornament  the  dignity  of  which  his 
becoming  costume  was  the  emblem.”  This  I inclosed  in  a 
note  to  Curzon,  telling  him  how  the  matter  occurred,  and 
requesting  that  he  would  send  it  by  his  servant,  together 
with  the  scarlet  vestment  which  he  would  find  in  my  dress- 
ing-room, Having  folded  and  sealed  this  despatch,  I turned 


p Harr  y lorrequer, 

to  give  Lord  Callonby  an  account  of  the  business,  and  showed 
him  Beamish’s  note,  at  which  he  was  greatly  amused  ; and 
indeed,  it  furnished  food  for  mirth  for  the  whole  party  dur- 
ing the  evening.  The  next  morning  I set  out  with  Lord  Cal- 
lonby on  the  long-threatened  canvassing  expedition — with 
the  details  of  which  I need  not  burden  my  “ Confessions.” 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  when  Lord  Kilkee  was  advocating 
Toryism  in  the  west,  I,  his  accredited  ambassador,  was  de- 
voting to  the  infernal  gods  the  prelacy,  the  peerage,  and  the 
pension  list — a mode  of  canvass  well  worthy  of  imitation  in 
these  troublesome  times  ; for,  not  to  speak  of  the  great  pros- 
pect of  success  from  having  friends  on  both  sides  of  the 
question,  the  principal  can  always  divest  himself  of  any 
"unpleasant  consequences  as  regards  inconsistency,  by  throw- 
ing the  blame  on  his  friend,  “who  went  too  far,”  as  the 
appropriate  phrase  is. 

Nothing  could  be  more  successful  than  our  mission.  Lord 
Callonby  was  delighted  beyond  bounds  with  the  prospect,  and 
so  completely  carried  away  by  high  spirits,  and  so  perfectly 
assured  that  much  of  it  was  owing  to  my  exertions,  that  on 
the  second  morning  of  our  tour — for  we  proceeded  through 
the  country  for  three  days — he  came  laughing  into  my  dress- 
ing-room with  a newspaper  in  his  hand. 

“ Here,  Lorrequer,”  said  he,  “ here’s  news  for  you.  You 
certainly  must  read  this and  he  handed  me  a copy  of  the 
“ Clare  Herald,”  with  an  account  of  our  meeting  the  evening 
before. 

After  glancing  my  eye  rapidly  over  the  routine  usual  in 
such  cases  — Humph,  ha — nearly  two  hundred  people — most 
respectable  farmers — room  appropriately  decorated — “ Cal- 
lonby Arms  ” — u after  the  usual  loyal  toasts,  the  chairman 
rose” — Well,  no  matter.  Ah!  here  it  is:  “Mr.  Lorrequer 
here  addressed  the  meeting  with  a flow  of  eloquence  it  has 
rarely,  if  ever,  been  our  privilege  to  hear  equaled.  He 
began  by  ” — humph 

“Ah,”  said  his  lordship,  impatiently,  “you  will  never  find 
it  out — look — here — ‘ Mr.  Lorrequer,  whom  we  have  men- 
tioned as  having  made  the  highly  exciting  speech,  to  be 
found  on  our  first  page,  is,  we  understand,  the  son  of  Sir  Guy 
Lorrequer,  of  Elton,  in  Shropshire — one  of  the  wealthiest  bar- 
onets in  England.  If  rumor  speak  truly,  there  is  a very  near 
prospect  of  an  alliance  between  this  talented  and  promis- 
ing young  gentleman  and  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 


I/ARR  V L ORRRQ  UER . §3 

daughter  of  a certain  noble  earl,  with  whom  he  has  been  for 
some  time  domesticated.' 

“ Eh,  what  think  you?  Son  of  Sir  Guy  Lorrequer.  I 
always  thought  my  old  friend  a bachelor,  but  you  see  the 
‘ Clare  Herald  ' knows  better.  Not  to  speak  of  the  last 
piece  of  intelligence,  it  is  very  good,  is  it  not  ? ” 

“ Capital,  indeed/'  said  I,  trying  to  laugh,  and  at  the  same 
time  blushing  confoundedly,  and  looking  as  ridiculously  as 
need  be. 

It  now  struck  me  forcibly  that  there  was  something  ex- 
tremely odd  in  his  lordship's  mention  of  this  paragraph,  par- 
ticularly when  coupled  with  his  and  Lady  Callonby's  manner 
to  me  for  the  last  two  months.  They  knew  enough  of  my 
family,  evidently,  to  be  aware  of  my  station  and  prospects — • 
or  rather  my  want  of  both — and  yet,  in  the  face  of  this,  they 
not  only  encouraged  me  to  prolong  a most  delightful  visit, 
but  by  a thousand  daily  and  dangerous  opportunities,  ab- 
solutely threw  me  in  the  way  of  one  of  the  loveliest  of  her 
sex,  seemingly  without  fear  on  their  parts.  “ Eh  bien,” 
thought  I,  with  my  old  philosophy.  “ Time,  that  ‘ pregnant 
old  gentleman,'  will  disclose  all,  and  so  laisse  allerR 

My  reveries  on  my  good  and  evil  fortune  were  suddenly 
interrupted  by  a letter  which  reached  me  that  evening,  hav- 
ing been  forwarded  from  Callonby  by  a special  messenger. 
“What,  another  epistle  from  Curzon,"  said  I,  as  my  eye 
caught  the  address,  and  wondering  not  a little  what  pressing 
emergency  had  called  forth  the  words  on  the  cover — “ to  be 
forwarded  with  haste,"  I eagerly  broke  the  seal  and  read  the 
following : 

“My  dear  Harp.y, — I received  yours  on  the  nth,  and 
immediately  dispatched  your  note  and  the  raiment  to  Mr. 
Beamish.  He  was  from  home  at  the  time,  but  at  eight 
o'clock  I was  sent  for  from  the  mess  to  see  two  gentlemen 
on  most  pressing  business.  I hurried  to  my  quarters,  and 
there  found  the  aforesaid  Mr.  B.,  accompanied  by  a friend, 
whom  he  introduced  as  Dr.  De  Courcy  Finucane,  of  the 
North  Cork  Militia — as  warlike-looking  a gentleman  of  his 
inches,  some  five  feet  three,  as  you  would  wish  to  see.  The 
moment  I appeared,  both  rose,  and  commenced  a narra- 
tive, for  such  I judge  it  to  be,  but  so  energetically  and  so 
completely  together,  that  I could  only  bow  politely,  and 
at  last  request  that  one  or  the  other  would  inform  me 


£4 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


of  the  object  of  their  visit.  Here  began  the  tug  of  war, 

the  doctor  saying,  4 Arrah,  now,  Giles ’ Mr.  Beamish 

interrupting  by,  4 Whist,  I tell  ye — now,  can't  you  let 

me?  Ye  see,  Mr.  Curzoin ' for  so  they  both  agreed 

to  designate  me.  At  last,  completely  worn  out,  I said, 
4 Perhaps  you  have  not  received  my  friend's  note  ? ' At  this 
Mr.  Beamish  reddened  to  the  eyes,  and  with  the  greatest 
volubility  poured  forth  a flood  of  indignant  eloquence,  that  I 
thought  it  necessary  to  check  ; but  in  this  I failed,  for  after 
informing  me  pretty  clearly  that  he  knew  nothing  of  your  story 
Df  the  alderman,  or  his  cloak,  added  that  he  firmly  believed 
your  pretended  reparation  was  only  a renewed  insult,  and 
that — — but  in  a word,  he  used  such  language,  that  I was  com- 
pelled to  take  him  short : and  the  finale  is,  that  I agreed  you 
should  meet  him,  though  still  ignorant  of  what  he  calls  the 
4 original  offence.'  But  heaven  knows,  his  conduct  here  last 
night  demands  a reprimand,  and  I hope  you  may  give  it ; 
and  if  you  shoot  him,  we  may  worm  out  the  secret  from  his 
executors.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  politeness  of  the 
parties  on  my  consenting  to  this  arrangement.  Dr.  Finu- 
cane  proposed  Carrigaholt  as  the  rendezvous,  about  twelve 
miles,  I believe,  from  Kilrush,  and  Tuesday  evening  at  six 
as  the  time,  which  will  be  the.  very  earliest  moment  we  can 
arrive  there.  So,  pray  be  up  to  time,  and  believe  me  yours, 

44  C.  Curzon. 

“ Saturday  evening.” 

It  was  late  on  Monday  evening  when  this  letter  reached  me, 
and  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  as  I was  then  about  forty 
Irish  miles  from  the  place  mentioned  by  Curzon ; so  after 
briefly  acquainting  Lord  Callonby  that  I was  called  off  by 
duty,  I hurried  to  my  room  to  pack  my  clothes,  and  again 
read  over  this  extraordinary  epistle. 

I confess  it  did  appear  something  droll,  how  completely 
Curzon  seemed  to  imbibe  the  passion  for  fighting  from  these 
44  blood-thirsty  Irishmen."  For  by  his  own  showing  he  was 
utterly  ignorant  of  my  ever  having  offended  this  Mr. 
Beamish,  of  whom  I recollected  nothing  whatever.  Yet 
when  the  gentleman  waxes  wrothy,  rather  than  inconveni- 
ence him,  or  perhaps  anxious  to  get  back  to  the  mess,  he 
coolly  says,  44  O,  my  friend  shall  meet  you : " and  then  his 
pleasant  jest,  44  find  out  the  cause  of  quarrel  from  his  ex- 
ecutors ! " 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


ss 


Truly,  thought  I,  there  is  no  equanimity  like  his  who  acts 
as  your  second  in  a duel.  The  gentlemanlike  urbanity  with 
which  he  waits  on  the  opposite  friends — the  conciliating 
tone  with  which  he  proffers  implacable  enmity — the  killing 
kindness  with  which  he  refuses  all  accommodation — the 
Talleyrand  air  of  his  short  notes  dated  from  the  “ Travellers/’ 
or  “ Brookes/’  with  the  words  three  o’clock  or  five  o’clock  on 
the  cover,  all  indicative  of  the  friendly  precipitancy  of  the 
negotiation.  Then,  when  all  is  settled,  the  social  style  with 
which  he  asks  you  to  take  a cutlet  with  him  at  the  “ Claren- 
don,” not  to  go  home — are  only  to  be  equalled  by  the  admi- 
rable tact  on  the  ground — the  studiously  elegant  salute  to 
the  adverse  party,  half  a la  Napoleon,  and  half  Beau  Brum- 
mell — the  politely  offered  snuff-box — the  coquetting  raillery 
about  ten  paces  or  twelve — are  certainly  the  beau  ideal  of 
the  stoicism  which  preludes  sending  your  friend  out  of  the 
world  like  a gentleman. 

How  very  often  is  the  face  of  external  nature  at  variance 
with  the  thoughts  and  actions — “the  sayings  and  doings” 
we  may  be  most  intent  upon  at  the  moment.  How  many 
a gay  and  brilliant  bridal  party  has  wended  its  way  to  St. 
George’s,  Hanover-square,  amid  a down-pour  of  rain,  one 
would  suppose  sufficient  ^to  quench  the  tbrch  of  Hymen, 
though  it  burned  as  brightly  as  Captain  Drummond’s  oxygen 
light ; and  on  the  other  hand  how  frequently  are  the  bluest 
azure  of  heaven  and  the  most  balmy  airs  shed  upon  the 
heart  bursting  with  affection,  or  the  head  bowed  with  grief ; 
and  without  any  desire  to  impugn,  as  much  higher  authority 
has  done,  the  moral  character  of  the  moon,  how  many  a 
scene  of  blood  and  rapine  has  its  mild  radiance  illumined. 
Such  reflections  as  these  came  thronging  to  my  mind,  as  on 
the  afternoon  of  Tuesday  I neared  the  little  village  of  our 
rendezvous.  The  scene  which  in  all  its  peaceful  beauty  lay 
before  me,  was  truly  a bitter  contrast  to  the  occasion  that 
led  me  thither.  I stood  upon  a little  peninsula  which  sepa- 
rates the  Shannon  from  the  wide  Atlantic.  On  one  side  the 
placid  river  flowed  on  its  course,  between  the  fields  of  wav- 
ing corn,  or  rich  pasturage — the  beautiful  island  of  Scattery, 
with  its  picturesque  ruins  reflected  in  the  unrippled  tide — the 
cheerful  voices  of  the  reapers,  and  the  merry  laugh  of  the 
children  were  mingled  with  the  seamen’s  cry  of  the  sailors, 
who  were  “heaving  short  ” on  their  anchor,  to  take  the 
evening  tide.  The  village,  which  consisted  of  merely  a few 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


S6 

small  cabins,  was  still  from  its  situation  a pleasing  object  in 
the  picture,  and  the  blue  smoke  that  rose  in  slender  columns 
from  the  humble  dwellings  took  from  the  scene  its  character 
of  loneliness,  and  suggested  feelings  of  home  and  homely 
enjoyments,  which  human  habitations,  however  lowly,  never 
fail  to  do. 

“ At  any  other  time,”  thought  I,  “and  how  I could  have 
enjoyed  all  this,  but  now — and  ha,  I find  it  is  already  past 
five  o’clock,  and  if  I am  rightly  informed  I am  still  above  a 
mile  from  i Carrigaholt/  where  we  were  to  meet.” 

I had  dismissed  my  conveyance  when  nearing  the  village, 
to  avoid  observation,  and  now  took  a foot-path  over  the 
hills.  Before  I had  proceeded  half  a mile,  the  scene  changed 
completely.  I found  myself  traversing  a small  glen,  grown 
over  with  a low  oak  scrub,  and  not  presenting  on  any 
side,  the  slightest  trace  of  habitation.  I saw  that  the  ground 
had  been  selected  by  an  adept.  The  glen,  which  grew 
narrow  as  I advanced,  suddenly  disclosed  to  my  view  a 
glimpse  of  the  Atlantic,  upon  which  the  declining  sun . was 
pouring  a flood  of  purple  glory.  I had  scarcely  turned  from 
the  contemplation  of  this  beautiful  object  when  a long  low 
whistle  attracted  my  attention.  I looked  in  the  direction 
from  whence  it  proceeded,  and  discovered  at  some  distance 
from  me  three  figures  standing  beside  the  ruin  of  an  old 
Abbey,  which  I now  for  the  first  time  perceived. 

If  I had  entertained  any  doubt  as  to  who  they  were,  it  had 
been  speedily  resolved,  for  I now  saw  one  of  the  party  wav- 
ing his  hat  to  me,  whom  I soon  recognized  to  be  Curzon  ; 
he  came  forward  to  meet  me,  and,  in  the  few  hundred  yards 
that  intervened  before  our  reaching  the  others,  told  me  as 
much  as  he  knew  of  the  opposite  party  ; which,  after  all, 
was  but  little.  Mr.  Beamish,  my  adversary,  he  described  as 
a morose,  fire-eating  southerner,  that  evidently  longed  for  an 
“affair”  with  a military  man,  then  considered  a circum- 
stance of  some  eclat  in  the  south ; his  second,  the  doctor, 
on  the  contrary,  was  by  far  “ the  best  of  the  cut-throats,”  a 
most  amusing  little  personage,  full  of  his  own  importance, 
and  profuse  in  his  legends  of  his  own  doings  in  love  and 
war,  and  evidently  disposed  to  take  the  pleasing  side  of 
every  occurrence  in  life  ; they  both  agreed  in  but  one  point — 
a firm  and  fixed  resolve  to  give  no  explanation  of  the  quarrel 
with  me.  “ So  then,”  said  I,  as  Curzon  hurried  over  the 
preceding  account,  “ you  absolutely  know  nothing  whatever 


! HA . . \ 7 L GRREQUER.  5 7 

of  the  reason  for  which  I am  about  to  give  this  man  a meet- 
ing.” 

“No  more  than  you,”  said  Curzon,  with  imperturbable 
gravity ; “ but  one  thing  I am  certain  of— had  I not  at  once 
promised  him  such,  he  would  have  posted  you  in  Limerick 
the  next  morning ; and,  as  you  know  our  mess  rule  in  the 
4-th,  I thought  it  best ” 

“O,  certainly,  quite  right;  but  now  are  you  quite  certain  I 
am  the  man  who  offended  ? for  I solemnly  assure  you,  I 
have  not  the  most  remote  recollection  of  having  ever  heard 
of  him.” 

“ That  point,”  said  Curzon,  “ there  can  be  no  doubt  of, 
for  he  not  only  designated  you  as  Mr.  Harry  Lorrequer, 
but  the  gentlemhn  that  made  all  Cork  laugh  so  heartily,  by 
his  representation  of  Othello.” 

“ Stop  ! ” said  I,  “ say  not  a word  more  ; I’m  his  man.” 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  ruins,  and  turning  a 
corner  came  in  full  contact  with  the  enemy ; they  had  been 
resting  themselves  on  a tombstone,  and  rose  as  we  approached. 

“Allow  me,”  said  Curzon,  stepping  a little  in  advance  of 
me,  “ allow  me  to  introduce  my  friend  Mr.  Lorrequer,  Dr. 
Finicane — Dr.  Finicane,  Mr.  Lorrequer.” 

“ Finucane  if  quite  agreable  to  you  ; Finucane,”  said  the 
little  gentleman,  as  he  lifted  his  hat  straight  off  his  head, 
and  replaced  it  most  accurately,  by  way  of  salute.  “Mr.  Lorre- 
quer, it  is  with  sincere  pleasure  I make  your  acquaintance.” 
Here  Mr.  Beamish  bowed  stiffly,  in  return  to  my  salutation, 
and  at  the  instant  a kind  of  vague  sensation  crossed  my 
mind,  that  those  red  whiskers  and  that  fiery  face  were  not 
seen  for  the  first  time,  but  the  thumbscrews  of  the  holy  office 
would  have  been  powerless  to  refresh  my  memory  as  to  when. 

“ Captain,”  said  the  doctor,  “ may  I request  the  favor  of 
your  company  this  way,  one  minute  ? ” They  both  walked 
aside  ; the  only  words  which  reached  me  as  I moved  off,  to 
permit  their  conference,  being  an  assurance  on  the  part  of 
the  doctor,  “ that  it  was  a sweet  spot  he  picked  out,  for,  by 
having  them  placed  north  and  south,  neither  need  have  a 
patch  of  sky  behind  him.”  Very  few  minutes  sufficed  for 
the  preliminaries,  and  they  both  advanced  smirking  and 
smiling,  as  if  they  had  just  arranged  a new  plan  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  poor,  or  the  benefit  of  the  manufacturing 
classes,  instead  of  making  preparations  for  sending  a gentle- 
man out  of  the  world. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


5* 

“ Then,  if  I understand  you,  captain,”  said  the  doctor, 
“ you  step  the  distance,  and  I give  the  word.” 

“ Exactly/’  said  Curzon. 

After  a joking  allusion  to  my  friend’s  length  of  limb,  at 
which  we  all  laughed  heartily,  we  were  placed,  Curzon  and 
the  doctor  standing  and  breaking  the  line  between  us  ; the 
pistols  were  then  put  into  our  hands,  the  doctor  saying — 
“ Slow,  gentlemen,  I’ll  just  retire  six  paces,  and  turn  round, 
which  will  be  quite  time  enough  to  prepare,  and  at  the  word 
‘ fire  ’ ye’ll  blaze  away  ; mind  now.”  With  a knowing  wink, 
the  doctor  delivered  this  direction,  and  immediately  moved 
off ; the  word  “ fire”  followed,  and  both  pistols  went  off  to- 
gether. My  hat  was  struck  near  the  top,  and,  as  the  smoke 
cleared  away,  I perceived  that  my  ball  had  taken  effect  upon 
my  adversary ; he  was  wounded  a little  below  the  knee  and 
appeared  to  steady  himself  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 

“ Your  friend  is  hit,”  said  Curzon,  to  the  doctor,  who  now 
came  forward  with  another  pistol.  “ Your  friend  is  hit.” 

“ So  I perceive,”  said  he,  placing  his  finger  on  the  spot ; 
“ but  it  is  no  harm  in  life  ; so  wre  proceed,  if  you  please.” 

“You  don’t  mean  to  demand  another  shot?”  said 
Curzon. 

“ Faith,  do  I,”  said  the  doctor,  coolly. 

“ Then,”  said  Curzon,  “ I must  tell  you  most  unequivocally, 
I refuse,,  and  shall  now  withdraw  my  friend,  and  had  it  not 
been  for  a regulation  peculiar  to  our  regiment,  but  never 
intended  to  include  cases  of  this  nature,  we  had  not  been 
here  now  ; for  up  to  this  hour  my  principal  and  myself  are 
in  utter  ignorance  of  any  cause  of  offence  ever  having  been 
offered  by  him  to  Mr.  Beamish.” 

“ Giles,  do  you  hear  this  ? ” said  the  doctor. 

But  Giles  did  not  hear  it,  for  the  rapid  loss  of  blood 
from  his  wound  had  so  weakened  him  that  he  had  fainted, 
and  now  lay  peaceably  on  the  grass.  Etiquette  was  now  at 
an  end,  and  we  all  ran  forward  to  assist  the  wounded  man  ; 
for  some  minutes  he  lay  apparently  quite  senseless,  and 
when  he  at  last  rallied  and  looked  wildly  about  him,  it 
appeared  to  be  with  difficulty  that  he  recalled  any  recollec- 
tion of  the  place,  and  the  people  around  him;  for  a few 
seconds  he  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  upon  the  doctor,  and  with 
a lip  pale  and  bloodless,  and  a voice  quivering  from  weak- 
ness, said  : 

“ Fin  ! didn’t  I tell  ye,  that  pistol  always  threw  high — oh  ! ” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


59 


and  this  he  said  with  a sigh  that  nearly  overpowered  him, 
“ O,  Fin,  if  you  had  only  given  me  the  saw-handled  one  that 
lam  used  to  ; but  it  is  no  good  talking  now.” 

In  my  inmost  heart  I was  grateful  to  the  little  doctor  for 
his  mistake,  for  I plainly  perceived  what  “ the  saw-handled 
one  he  was  used  to  ” might  have  done  for  me,  and  could  not 
help  muttering  to  myself  with  good  Sir  Andrew — “ If  I had 
known  he  was  so  cunning  of  fence,  I’d  have  seen  him  damned 
before  that  I fought  with  him.” 

Our  first  duty  was  now  to  remove  the  wounded  man  to  the 
high-road,  about  which  both  he  himself  and  his  second 
seemed  disposed  to  make  some  difficulty ; they  spoke  together 
for  a few  moments  in  a low  tone  of  voice,  and  then  the 
doctor  addressed  us,  “We  feel,  gentlemen,  this  is  not  a 
time  for  any  concealment ; but  the  truth  is,  we  have  need  of 
great  circumspection  here,  for  I must  inform  you  we  are 
both  of  us  bound  over  in  heavy  recognizances  to  keep  the 
peace.” 

<c  Bound  over  to  keep  the  peace  ! ” said  Curzon  and  my- 
self together.  ” 

“ Nothing  less ; and  although  there  is  nobody  hereabouts 
would  tell,  yet  if  the  affair  got  into  the  papers  by  any  means, 
why  there  are  some  people  in  Cork  would  like  to  press  my 
friend  there,  for  he  is  a very  neat  shot  when  he  has  the  saw- 
handle,”  and  here  the  doctor  winked. 

We  had  little  time  permitted  us  to  think  upon  the  oddity 
of  meeting  a man  in  such  circumstances,  for  we  were  now 
obliged  to  contribute  our  aid  in  conveying  him  to  the  road, 
where  some  means  might  be  procured  for  his  transfer  to 
Kilrush  or  some  other  town  in  the  neighborhood,  for  he  was 
by  this  time  totally  unable  to  walk. 

After  half  an  hour’s  toiling,  we  at  last  did  reach  the  high- 
way, by  which  time  I had  ample  opportunity,  short  as  the 
space  was,  to  see  something  of  the  character  of  our  two 
opponents.  It  appeared  that  the  doctor  exercised  the  most 
absolute  control  over  his  large  friend,  dictating  and  com- 
manding in  a tone  which  the  other  never  ventured  to  resist ; 
for  a moment  or  two  Mr.  Beamish  expressed  a great  desire 
to  be  conveyed  by  night  to  Kilrush,  where  he  might  find 
means  to  cross  the  Shannon  into  Kerry;  this,  however,  the 
doctor  opposed  strenuously,  from  the  risk  of  publicity  ; and 
finally  settled  that  we  should  all  go  in  a body  to  his  friend, 
Father  Malachi  Brennan’s  house,  only  two  miles  off,  where 


6o 


marry  lorrequer. 


the  sick  man  would  have  the  most  tender  care,  and  what  th<3 
doctor  considered  equally  indispensable,  we  ourselves  a most 
excellent  supper,  and  a hearty  welcome. 

“ You  know  Father  Malachi,  of  course,  Mr.  Lorrequer  ? ” 

“ I am  ashamed  to  say  I do  not.” 

“ Not  know  Malachi  Brennan  and  live  in  Clare  ! Well, 
Well,  that  is  strange  ; sure  he  is  the  priest  of  this  country  for 
twelve  miles  in  every  direction  of  you,  and  a better  man,  and 
pleasanter,  there  does  not  live  in  the  diocese,  though  I’m  his 
cousin  that  says  it.” 

After  professing  all  the  possible  pleasure  it  would  afford 
my  friend  and  myself  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Father 
Malachi,  we  proceeded  to  place  Mr.  Beamish  in  a car  that 
was  passing  at  the  time,  and  started  for  the  residence  of  the 
good  priest.  The  whole  of  the  way  thither  I was  occupied 
but  by  one  thought,  a burning  anxiety  to  know  the  cause  of 
our  quarrel,  and  I longed  for  the  moment  when  I might  get 
the  doctor  apart  from  his  friend  to  make  the  inquiry. 

u There,  look  down  to  your  left,  where  you  see  the  lights 
shining  so  brightly,  that  is  Father  Malachi’s  house  ; as  sure 
as  my  name  is  De  Courcy  Finucane,  there’s  fun  going  on 
there  this  night.” 

<c  Why,  there  certainly  does  seem  a great  illumination  in 
the  valley  there,”  said  I. 

“ May  I never,”  said  the  doctor,  “ if  it  isn’t  a station ” 

“ A station  ! — pray  may  I ask ” 

“ You  need  not  ask  a word  on  the  subject ; for,  if  I am  a 
true  prophet,  you’ll  know  what  it  means  before  morning.” 

A little  more  chatting  together  brought  us  to  a narrow 
road,  flanked  on  either  side  by  high  hedges  of  hawthorn,  and 
in  a few  minutes  more,  we  stood  before  the  priest’s  residence, 
a long,  whitewashed,  thatched  house,  having  great  appear- 
ance of  comfort  and  convenience.  Arrived  here,  the  doctor 
seemed  at  once  to  take  on  him  the  arrangements  of  the 
whole  party ; for  after  raising  the  latch  and  entering  the 
house,  he  returned  to  us  in  a few  minutes,  and  said  : 

“ Wait  awhile  now;  we’ll  not  go  in  to  Father  Malachi  till 
we’ve  put  Giles  to  bed.” 

We  accordingly  lifted  him  from  off  the  car,  and  assisted 
him  into  the  house,  and  following  Finucane  down  a narrow 
passage,  at  last  reached  a most  comfortable  little  chamber, 
with  a neat  bed  ; here  we  placed  him,  while  the  doctor  gave 
some  directions  to  a bare-headed,  red-legged  hussy,  without 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


61 


shoes  or  stockings,  and  himself  proceeded  to  examine  the 
wound,  which  was  a more  serious  one  than  it  first  appeared. 

After  half  an  hour  thus  occupied,  during  which  time  roars 
of  merriment  and  hearty  peals  of  laughter  burst  upon  us 
every  time  the  door  opened,  from  a distant  part  of  the  house, 
where  his  reverence  was  entertaining  his  friends,  and  which, 
as  often  as  they  were  heard  by  the  doctor,  seemed  to  produce 
in  him  sensations  not  unlike  those  that  afflicted  the  “ wed- 
ding-guest ” in  the  “ Ancient  Mariner,”  when  he  heard  the 
“ loud  bassoon,”  and  as  certainly  imparted  an  equally  long- 
ingdesire  to  be  a partaker  in  the  mirth.  We  arranged  every- 
thing satisfactorily  for  Mr.  Beamish’s  comfort,  and  with  a 
large  basin  of  vinegar  and  water  to  keep  his  knee  cool,  and 
a strong  tumbler  of  hot  punch  to  keep  his  heart  warm — 
homeopathic  medicine  is  not  half  so  new  as  Dr.  Hahneman 
would  make  us  believe — we  left  Mr.  Beamish  to  his  own 
meditations,  and  doubtless  regrets  that  he  did  not  get  “ the 
saw-handled  one  he  was  used  to,”  while  we  proceeded  to 
make  our  bows  to  Father  Malachi  Brennan. 

But,  as  I have  no  intention  to  treat  the  good  priest  with 
ingratitude,  I shall  not  present  him  to  my  readers  at  the  tail 
of  a chapter, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  PRIEST’S  SUPPER — FATHER  MALACHI  AND  THE  COADJUTOR 
MAJOR  JONES  AND  THE  ABBE. 

At  the  conclusion  of  our  last  chapter  we  left  our  quondam 
antagonist,  Mr.  Beamish,  stretched  at  full  length  upon  a bed 
practicing  homeopathy  by  administering  hot  punch  to  his 
fever,  while  we  followed  our  chaperon,  Dr.  Finucane,  into 
the  presence  of  the  Reverend  Father  Brennan. 

The  company  into  which  we  now,  without  any  ceremony 
on  our  parts,  introduced  ourselves,  consisted  of  from  five- 
and-twenty  to  thirty  persons,  seated  around  a large  oak  table, 
plentifully  provided  with  materials  for  drinking,  and  cups, 
goblets,  and  glasses  of  every  shape  and  form.  The  moment 
we  entered  the  doctor  stepped  forward,  and  touching  Father 
Malachi  on  the  shoulder— for  so  I rightly  guessed  him  to  be 
- — presented  himself  to  his  relative,  by  whom  he  was  welcomed 
with  every  demonstration  of  joy.  While  their  recognitions 


6z 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


were  exchanged,  and  while  the  doctor  explained  the  reasons 
of  our  visit,  I was  enabled,  undisturbed  and  unnoticed,  to 
take  a brief  survey  of  the  party.  * 

Father  Malachi  Brennan,  P.  P.  of  Carrigaholt,  was  what  I 
had  often  pictured  to  myself  as  the  beau  ideal  of  his  caste  ; 
his  figure  was  short,  fleshy,  and  enormously  muscular,  and 
displayed  proportions  which  wanted  but  height  to  constitute 
a perfect  Hercules ; his  legs  so  thick  in  the  calf,  so  taper  in 
the  ankle,  looked  like  nothing  I know,  except,  perhaps  the 
metal  balustrades  of  Carlisle  bridge  ; his  face  was  large  and 
rosy,  and  the  general  expression,  a mixture  of  unbounded 
good-humor  and  inexhaustible  drollery,  to  which  the  restless 
activity  of  his  black  and  arched  eye-brows  greatly  contrib- 
uted ; and  his  mouth,  were  it  not  for  a character  of  sen- 
suality and  voluptuousness  about  the  nether  lip,  had  been 
actually  handsome ; his  head  was  bald,  except  a narrow 
circle  close  above  the  ears,  which  was  marked  by  a ring  of 
curly  dark  hair,  sadly  insufficient,  however,  to  conceal  a 
development  behind,  that,  if  there  be  truth  in  phrenology, 
bodes  but  little  happiness  to  the  disciples  of  Miss  Martineau, 
Add  to  these  external  signs  a voice  rich,  fluent,  and  racy, 
with  the  mellow  “doric  ” of  his  country,  you  have  some  faint 
resemblance  of  one  “ every  inch  a priest.”  The  very  anti- 
podes to  the  bonhomie  of  this  figure  confronted  him  as  crou- 
pier at  the  foot  of  the  table.  This,  as  I afterward  learned, 
was  no  less  a person  than  Mr.  Donovan,  the  coadjutor  or 
“ curate  ; ” he  was  a tall,  spare,  ungainly-looking  man  of 
about  five-and-thirty,  with  a pale,  ascetic  countenance,  the 
only  readable  expression  of  which  vibrated  between  low  sus- 
picion and  intense  vulgarity : over  his  low  projecting  fore- 
head hung  down  a mass  of  straight  red  hair ; indeed — for 
nature  is  not  a politician — it  almost  approached  an  orange 
hue.  This  was  cut  close  to  the  head  all  round,  and  dis- 
played in  their  full  proportions  a pair  of  enormous  ears  which 
stood  out  in  “ relief,”  like  turrets  from  a watch-tower,  and 
with  pretty  much  the  same  object ; his  skin  was  of  that 
peculiar  color  and  texture  to  which  not  all  “ the  water  in 
great  Neptune’s  ocean  ” could  impart  a look  of  cleanliness, 
while  his  very  voice,  hard,  harsh,  and  inflexible,  was  unpre- 
possessing and  unpleasant.  And  yet,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  he,  too,  was  a correct  type  of  his  order,  the  only  dif- 
ference being  that  Father  Malachi  was  an  older  coinage,  with 
the  impress  of  Douay  or  St.  Omers,  whereas  Mr.  Donovan 


HARRY  LORREQUER,  63 

Was  the  shining  metal,  fresh  stamped  from  the  mint  of 
Maynooth. 

While  thus  occupied  in  my  surveillance  of  the  scene  before 
me,  I was  roused  by  the  priest  saying : 

“ Ah,  Fin,  my  darling,  you  needn’t  deny  it ; you’re  at  the 
old  game  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Malachi,  and  ye’ll  never  be 
easy  or  quiet  till  you’re  sent  beyond  the  sea,  or  maybe  have 
a record  of  your  virtues  on  half  a ton  of  marble  in  the  church- 
yard yonder.” 

“ Upon  my  honor,  upon  the  sacred  honor  of  a De 
Courcy ” 

“ Well,  well,  never  mind  it  now  ; ye  see  ye’re  just  keeping 
your  friends  cooling  themselves  there  in  the  corner — intro- 
duce me  at  once.” 

“ Mr.  Lorrequer,  I’m  sure ” 

“ My  name  is  Curzon,”  said  the  adjutant,  bowing. 

“ A mighty  pretty  name,  though  a little  profane  ; well, 
Mr.  Curseon,”  for  so  he  pronounced  it,  “ ye’re  as  welcome 
as  the  flowers  in  May ; and  it’s  mighty  proud  I am  to  see  ye 
here.” 

“ Mr.  Lorrequer,  allow  me  to  shake  your  hand — I’ve  heard 
of  ye  before.” 

There  seemed  nothing  very  strange  in  that  ; for  go  where 
I.  would  through  this  county,  I seemed  as  generally  known 
as  ever  was  Brummel  in  Bond  Street. 

“Fin  tells  me,”  continued  Father  Malachi,  “that  ye’d 
rather  not  be  known  down  here,  in  regard  of  a reason,”  and 
here  he  winked.  “ Make  yourself  quite  easy,  the  king’s  writ 
was  never  but  once  in  these  parts:  and  the ‘original  and 
true  copy’  went  back  to  Limerick  in  the  stomach  of  the 
server ; they  made  him  eat  it,  Mr.  Lorrequer  ; but  it’s  as 
well  to  be  cautious,  for  there  are  a good  number  here.  A 
little  dinner,  a little  quarterly  dinner  we  have  among  us, 
Mr.  Curseon,  to  be  social  together,  and  raise  a ‘trifle’  for 
the  Irish  college  at  Rome,  where  we  have  a probationer  or 
two  ourselves.” 

“ As  good  as  a station,  and  more  drink,”  whispered  Fin 
into  my  ear.  “ And  now,”  continued  the  priest,  “ ye  must 
permit  me  to  rechristen  ye  both,  and  the  contribution  will 
not  be  less  for  what  I’m  going  to  do ; and  I’m  certain  you’ll 
not  be  the  worse  for  the  change,  Mr.  Curseon — though  ’tis 
only  for  a few  hours  ye’ll  have  a decent  name.” 

As  I could  see  no  possible  objection  to  this  proposal, ‘nor 


64 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


did  Curzon  either,  our  only  desire  being  to  maintain  the 
secrecy  for  our  antagonist’s  safety,  we  at  once  assented, 
when  Father  Malachi  took  me  by  the  hand,  but  with  such  a 
total  change  in  his  whole  air  and  deportment,  that  I was 
completely  puzzled  by  it ; he  led  me  forward  to  the  company 
with  a good  deal  of  that  ceremonious  reverence  I have  often 
admired  in  Sir  Charles  Vernon,  when  conducting  some  full- 
blown dowager  through  the  mazes  of  a Castle  minuet.  The 
desire  to  laugh  outright  was  almost  irresistible*  as  the  Rev. 
Father  stood  at  arm’s  length  from  me,  still  holding  my  hand, 
and  bowing  to  the  company  pretty  much  in  the  style  of  a 
manager  introducing  a blushing  debutante  to,  an  audience. 
A moment  more,  and  I must  have  inevitably  given  way  to  a 
burst  of  laughter ; when  what  was  my  horror  to  hear  the 
priest  present  me  to  the  company  as  their  “ excellent,  worthy, 
generous,  and  patriotic  young  landlord,  Lord  Kilkee.  Cheer, 
every  mother’s  son  of  ye  ; cheer,  I say  ; ” and  certainly  pre- 
cept was  never  more  strenuously  backed  by  example,  for  he 
huzzaed  till  I thought  he  would  burst  a blood-vessel ; may  I 
add,  I almost  wished  it,  such  was  the  insufferable  annoyance, 
the  chagrin,  this  announcement  gave  me ; and  I waited  with 
eager  impatience  for  the  din  and  clamor  to  subside,  to  dis- 
claim every  syllable  of  the  priest’s  announcement,  and  take 
the  consequences  of  my  baptismal  epithet,  cost  what  it  might. 
To  this  I was  impelled  by  many  and  important  reasons. 
Situated  as  I was  with  respect  to  the  Callonby  family,  my 
assumption  of  their  name  at  such  a moment  might  get  abroad, 
and  the  consequences  to  me  be  inevitable  ruin  ; ajid  inde- 
pendent of  my  natural  repugnance  to  such  sailing  under 
false  colors,  I saw  Curzon  laughing  almost  to  suffocation  at 
my  wretched  predicament,  and  (so  strong  within  me  was  the 
dread  of  ridicule)  I thought  “ what  a pretty  narrative  he  is 
concocting  for  the  mess  this  minute.”  I rose  to  reply,  and 
whether  Father  Malachi,  with  his  intuitive  quickness,  guessed 
my  purpose  or  not  I cannot  say,  but  he  certainly  resolved  to 
outmanoeuvre  me,  and  he  succeeded : while  with  one  hand 
he  motioned  to  the  party  to  keep  silence,  with  the  other  he 
took  hold  of  Curzon,  but  with  no  peculiar  or  very  measured 
respect,  and  introduced  him  as  Mr.  Mac  Neesh,  the  new 
Scotch  steward  and  improver — a character  at  that  time 
whose  popularity  might  compete  with  a tithe  proctor  or  an 
exciseman.  So  completely  did  this  tactique  turn  the  tables 
upon  the  poor  adjutant,  who  the  moment  before  was  exulting 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


6S 

over  me,  that  I utterly  forgot  my  own  woes,  and  sat  down 
convulsed  with  mirth  at  his  situation — an  emotion  certainly 
not  lessened  as  I saw  Curzon  passed  from  one  to  the  other 
at  table,  “ like  a pauper  to  his  parish,”  till  he  found  an  asy- 
lum  at  the  very  foot,  in  juxta  with  the  engaging  Mister  Don- 
ovan, a propinquity,  if  I might  judge  from  their  countenances, 
uncoveted  by  either  party.  <r 

While  this  was  performing,  Dr.  Finucane  was  making  his 
recognitions  with  several  of  the  company  to  whom  he  had 
been  long  known  during  his  visits  to  the  neighborhood.  I 
now  resumed  my  place  on  the  right  of  the  Father,  abandon- 
ing for  the  present  all  intention  of  disclaiming  my  rank,  and 
the  campaign  was  opened.  The  priest  now  exerted  himself 
to  the  utmost  to  recall  conversation  into  the  original  chan- 
nels, and  if  possible  to  draw  off  attention  from  me,  which  he 
still  feared  might,  perhaps,  elicit  some  unlucky  announce*- 
ment  on  my  part.  Failing  in  his  endeavors  to  bring  matters 
to  their  former  footing,  he  turned  the  whole  brunt  of  his 
attentions  to  the  worthy  doctor,  who  sat  on  his  left. 

“ How  goes  on  the  lav/,”  said  he,  “ Fin  ? any  new  proofs, 
as  they  call  them,  forthcoming  ? ” 

What  Fin  replied,  I could  not  hear,  but  the  allusion  to  the 
“ suit”  was  explained  by  Father  Malachi  informing  us  that 
the  only  impediment  between  his  cousin  and  the  title  . of 
Kinsale  lay  in  the  unfortunate  fact,  that  his  grandmother, 
rest  her  sowl,”  was  not  a man. 

Dr.  Finucane  winced  a little  under  the  manner  in  which 
this  was  spoken  ; but  returned  the  fire  by  asking  if  the 
bishop  was  down  lately  in  that  quarter  ? The  evasive 
way  in  which  “ the  Father  ” replied  having  stimulated 
my  curiosity  as  to  the  reason,  little  entreaty  was  necessary 
to  persuade  the  doctor  to  relate  the  following  anecdote, 
which  was  not  relished  the  less  by  his  superior,  that  it  told 
somewhat  heavily  on  Mr.  Donovan. 

“ It  is  about  four  years  ago,”  said  the  doctor,  “ since  the 
Bishop,  Dr.  Plunket,  took  it  into  his  head  that  he’d  make  a 
general  inspection,  ‘a  reconnaisance/  as  we’d  call  it,  Mr. 
Lor — that  is,  my  lord  ! through  the  whole  diocese,  and  leave 
no  part  far  nor  near  without  poking  his  nose  in  it  and  see- 
ing how  matters  were  doing.  He  heard  very  queer  stories 
about  his  reverence  her#,  and  so  down  he  came  one  morning 
in  the  month  of  July,  riding  upon  an  old  gray  hack,  looking 
just  for  all  the  world  like  any  other  elderly  gentleman  in 


66 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


very  rusty  black.  When  he  got  near  the  village  he  picked 
upon  a little  boy  to  show  him  the  short  cut  across  the  fields 
to  the  house  here  ; and  as  his  lordship  was  a 4 sharp  man 
and  a shrewd/  he  kept  his  eye  on  everything  as  he  went 
along,  remarking  this,  and  noting  down  that. 

44  4 Are  ye  regular  in  yer  duties,  my  son  ? ’ said  he  to  the 
gossoon. 

4 4 4 1 never  miss  a Sunday/  said  the  gossoon ; 4 for  it's 
always  walking  his  reverence’s  horse  I am  the  whole  time  av 
prayers.’ 

44  His  lordship  said  no  more  for  a little  while,  when  he 
muttered  between  his  teeth,  4 Ah,  it’s  just  slander — nothing 
but  slander  and  lying  tongues/  This  soliloquy  was  caused 
by  his  remarking  that  on  every  gate  he  passed,  or  from 
every  cabin,  two  or  three  urchins  would  come  out  half 
naked,  but  all  with  the  finest  heads  of  red  hair  he  ever  saw 
in  his  life. 

44  4 How  is  it,  my  son/  said  he  at  length  ; 4 they  tell  very 
strange  stories  about  Father  Malachi,  and  I see  so  many  of 
these  children  with  red  hair.  Eh — now,  Father  Malachi’s  a 
dark  man/ 

44  4 True  for  ye/  said  the  boy  ; 4 true  for  ye,  Father  Mala- 
chi’s dark;  but  the  coadjutor  ! — the  coadjutor’s  as  red  as  a 
fox.’” 

When  the  laugh  this  story  caused  had  a little  subsided, 
Father  Malachi  called  out,  44  Mickey  Oulahan ! Mickey,  I 
say,  hand  his  lordship  over  4 the  groceries  ’ ” — thus  he  des- 
ignated a square  decanter,  containing  about  two  quarts  of 
whisky,  and  a bowl  heaped  high  with  sugar — 44  a dacent  boy 
is  Mickey,  my  lord,  and  I’m  happy  to  be  the  means  of  mak- 
ing him  known  to  you.”  I bowed  with  condescension,  while 
Mr.  Oulahan’s  eyes  sparkled  like  diamonds  at  the  recog- 
nition. 

44  He  has  only  two  years  of  the  lease  to  run,  and  a 4 long 
charge)/  ” (anglice,  a large  family)  continued  the  priest. 

44  I’ll  not  forget  him,  you  may  depend  upon  it,”  said  I. 

44  Do  you  hear  that,”  said  Father  Malachi,  casting  a 
glance  of  triumph  round  the  table,  while  a general  buzz  of 
commendation  on  priest  and  patron  went  round,  with  many 
such  phrases  as,  44  Och,  thin,  it’s  his  riv’rance  can  do  it,”  44  na 
bockish,”  44  and  why  not  ? ” etc.,  etc  ? As  for  me,  I have 
already  44  confessed  ” to  my  crying  sin,  a fatal,  irresistible 
inclination  to  follow  the  humor  of  the  moment  wherever  it 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


67 

led  me ; and  now  I found  myself  as  active  a partisan  in  quiz* 
zing  Mickey  Oulahan,  as  though  I was  not  myself  a party 
included  in  the  jest.  I was  thus  fairly  launched  into  my 
inveterate  habit,  and  nothing  could  arrest  my  progress. 

One  by  one  the  different  individuals  round  the  table  were 
presented  to  me,  and  made  known  their  various  wants,  with 
an  implicit  confidence  in  my  power  of  relieving  them,  which 
I with  equal  readiness  ministered  to.  I lowered  the  rent  of 
every  man  at  table.  I made  a general  jail  delivery,  an  act 
of  grace  (I  blush  to  say)  which  seemed  to  be  peculiarly 
interesting  to  the  present  company.  I abolished  all  arrears 
— made  a new  line  of  road  through  an  impassable  bog,  and 
aver  an  inaccessible  mountain — and  conducted  water  to  a 
mill,  which  (I  learned  in  the  morning)  was  always  worked  by 
wind.  The  decanter  had  scarcely  completed  its  third  circuit 
of  the  board,  when  I bid  fair  to  be  the  most  popular  speci- 
men of  the  peerage  that  ever  visited  the  “ far  west.”  In  the 
midst  of  my  career  of  universal  benevolence,  I was  inter- 
rupted by  Father  Malachi,  whom  I found  on  his  legs,  pro- 
nouncing a glowing  eulogium  on  his  cousin’s  late  regiment, 
the  famous  North  Cork. 

“ That  was  the  corps  ! ” said  he.  “ Bid  them  do  a thing, 
and  they’d  never  leave  off ; and  so,  when  they  got  orders  to 
retire  from  Wexford,  it’s  little  they  cared  for  the  comforts  of 
baggage,  like  many  another  regiment,  for  they  threw  away 
everything  but  their  canteens,  and  never  stopped  till  they  ran 
to  Ross,  fifteen  miles  further  than  the  enemy  followed  them. 
And  when  they  were  all  in  bed  the  same  night,  fatigued  and 
tired  with  their  exertions,  as  ye  may  suppose,  a drummer’s 
boy  called  out  in  his  sleep — 4 here  they  are— they’re  com 
ing  ’ — they  all  jumped  up  and  set  off  in  their  shirts,  and 
got  two  miles  out  of  town  before  they  discovered  it  was  a 
false  alarm.” 

Peal  after  peal  of  laughter  followed  the  priest’s  encomium 
on  the  doctor’s  regiment ; and,  indeed,  he  himself  joined  most 
heartily  in  the  mirth,  as  he  might  well  afford  to  do,  seeing 
that  a braver  or  better  corps  than  the  North  Cork,  Ireland 
did  not  possess. 

44  Well,”  said  Fin,  44  it’s  easy  to  see  ye  never  can  forget 
what  they  did  at  Maynooth.” 

Father  Malachi  disclaimed  all  personal  feeling  on  the  sub* 
ject ; and  I was  at  last  gratified  by  the  following  narrative, 
which  I regret  deeply  I am  not  enabled  to  give  in  the  doctor’s 


68 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


own  verbiage  ; but  writing  as  I do  from  memory  (in  most 
instances),  I can  only  convey  the  substance. 

It  was  toward  the  latter  end  of  the  year  ’98 — the  year  of 
the  troubles — that  the  North  Cork  were  ordered,  “for  their 
sins/’  I believe,  to  march  from  their  snug  quarters  in  Fermoy, 
and  take  up  a position  in  the  town  of  Maynooth — a very  con- 
siderable reverse  of  fortune  to  a set  of  gentlemen  extremely 
addicted  to  dining  out,  and  living  at  large  upon  a very 
pleasant  neighborhood.  Fermoy  abounded  in  gentry  ; May- 
nooth at  that  time  had  few,  if  any,  excepting  his  Grace  of 
Leinster,  and  he  lived  very  privately,  and  saw  no  company. 
Maynooth  was  stupid  and  dull — there  were  neither  belles  nor 
balls.  Fermoy  (to  use  the  doctor’s  well-remembered  words) 
had  a great  “feeding,”  and  “ very  genteel  young  ladies,  who 
carried  their  handkerchiefs  in  bags,  and  danced  with  the 
officers.” 

They  had  not  been  many  weeks  in  their  new  quarters 
when  they  began  to  pine  over  their  altered  fortunes,  and  it 
was  with  a sense  of  delight,  which  a few  months  before 
would  have  been  incomprehensible  to  them,  they  discovered 
that  one  of  their  officers  had  a brother  a young  priest  in  the 
college  ; he  introduced  him  to  some  of  his  confreres,  and  the 
natural  result  followed.  A visiting  acquaintance  began  be- 
tween the  regiment  and  such  of  the  members  of  the  college 
as  had  liberty  to  leave  the  precincts,  who,  as  time  ripened 
the  acquaintance  into  intimacy,  very  naturally  preferred  the 
cuisine  of  the  North  Cork  to  the  meagre  fare  of  “ the  refec- 
tory.” At  last  seldom  a day  went  by  without  one  or  two  of 
their  reverences  finding  themselves  guests  at  the  mess.  The 
North  Corkians  were  of  a most  hospitable  turn,  and  the 
fathers  were  determined  the  virtue  should  not  rust  for  want 
of  being  exercised ; they  would  just  drop  in  to  say  a word  to 
“ Captain  O’Flaherty  about  leave  to  shoot  in  the  demesne,” 
as  Carton  was  styled  ; or,  they  had  a “ frank  from  the  duke 
for  the  colonel,”  or  some  other  equally  pressing  reason  ; and 
they  would  contrive  to  be  caught  in  the  middle  of  a very 
droll  story  just  as  the  “ roast  beef  ” was  playing.  Very  little 
entreaty  sufficed — a short  apology  for  the  “ dereglements  ” 
of  dress,  and  a few  minutes  more  found  them  seated  at  table 
without  further  ceremony  on  either  side. 

Among  the  favorite  guests  from  the  college,  two  wrere 
peculiarly  in  estimation — “ the  Professor  of  the  Humanities,” 
father  Luke  Mooney  5 and  the  Abbe  D’ Array,  “ the  Lecturer 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


69 

$n  Moral  Philosophy  and  Belles  Lettres,”  and  certain  it  is, 
pleasanter  fellows,  or  more  gifted  with  the  “ convivial  bump,” 
there  never  existed.  He  of  the  Humanities  was  a droll  dog 
• — a member  of  the  Curran  Club,  the  “ monks  of  the  screw,” 
told  an  excellent  story  and  sang  the  “ Crui^keen  Lawn  ” 
better  than  did  any  one  before  or  since  him  ; the  moral 
philosopher,  though  of  a different  genre , was  also  a most 
agreeable  companion,  an  Irishman  transplanted  in  his  youth 
to  St.  Omers,  and  who  had  grafted  upon  his  native  humor  a 
considerable  share  of  French  smartness  and  repartee — such 
were  the  two,  who  ruled  supreme  in  all  the  festive  arrange- 
ments of  this  jovial  regiment,  and  were  at  last  as  regular  at 
table  as  the  adjutant  and  the  paymaster,  and  so  might  they 
*iave  continued,  had  not  prosperity,  that,  in  its  blighting 
influence  upon  the  heart,  spares  neither  priests  nor  lay- 
men, and  is  equally  severe  upon  mice  (see  Hssop’s  fable)  and 
moral  philosophers,  actually  deprived  them,  for  the  “ nonce,” 
of  reason,  and  tempted  them  to  their  ruin.  You  naturally 
ask,  what  did  they  do  ? Did  they  venture  upon  allusions  to 
the  retreat  upon  Ross?  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Did  they,  in 
that  vanity  which  wine  inspires,  refer  by  word,  act  or 
innuendo,  to  the  well-known  order  of  their  colonel  when 
reviewing  his  regiment  in  “ the  Phoenix,”  to  “ advance  two 
steps  backward,  and  dress  by  the  gutter?  ” Far  be  it  from 
them  ; though  indeed  either  of  these  had  been  esteemed 
light  in  the  balance  compared  with  their  real  crime.  “ Then, 
what  was  their  failing — come  tell  it,  and  burn  ye  ! ” They 
actually,  “horresco  referens,”  quizzed  the  Major  coram  the 
whole  mess  ! Now,  Major  John  Jones  had  only  lately  ex- 
changed into  the  North  Cork  from  the  “ Darry  Rageraent,” 
as  he  called  it.  He  was  a red-hot  Orangeman,  a deputy 
grand-something  and  vice-chairman  of  the  “ ’Prentice  Boys  ” 
besides.  He  broke  his  leg  when  a schoolboy,  by  a fall 
incurred  in  tying  an  orange  handkerchief  around  King 
William’s  august  neck  in  College-green,  on  one  12th  of  July, 
and  three  several  times  had  closed  the  gates  of  Derry  with 
his  own  loyal  hands,  on  the  famed  anniversary  ; in  a word, 
he  was  one,  that  if  his  church  had  enjoined  penance  as  an 
expiation  for  sin,  would  have  looked  upon  a trip  to  Jerusalem 
on  his  bare  knees,  as  a very  light  punishment  for  the  crime 
on  his  conscience,  that  he  sat  at  table  with  two  buck  priests 
from  Maynooth,  and  carved  for  them  like  the  rest  of  th$ 
^ornMnv. 

r V 


HARR  Y L ORREQ UER. 


fo 

Poor  Major  Jones,  however,  had  no  such  solace,  and  the 
canker-worm  eat  daily  deeper  and  deeper  into  his  pining  heart. 
During  the  three  or  four  weeks  of  their  intimacy  with  his 
regiment,  his  martyrdom  was  awful.  His  figure  wasted,  and 
his  color  became  a deeper  tinge  of  orange,  and  all  around 
averred  that  there  would  soon  be  a “ move  up  ” in  the  corps, 
for  the  major  had  evidently  “ got  his  notice  to  quit  ” this 
world  and  its  pomps  and  vanities.  He  felt  “ that  he  was 
dying,  ” to  use  Haines  Bayly’s  beautiful  and  apposite  words, 
and  meditated  an  exchange,  but  that,  from  circumstances,  was 
out  of  the  question.  At  last,  subdued  by  grief,  and  prob- 
ably his  spirit  having  chafed  itself  smooth  by  such  constant 
attrition,  he  became  to  all  seeming,  calmer,  but  it  was  only  the 
calm  of  a broken  and  weary  heart.  Such  was  Major  Jones  at 
the  time,  when  “ suadente  diabolo,”  it  seemed  meet  to  Fathers 
Mooney  and  D’Array  to  make  him  the  butt  of  their  raillery. 
At  first,  he  could  not  believe  it ; the  thing  was  incredible— 
impossible ; but  when  he  looked  around  the  table,  when  he 
heard  the  roars  of  laughter,  long,  loud  and  vociferous  ; when 
he  heard  his  name  bandied  from  one  to  the  other  across  the 
table,  with  some  vile  jest  tacked  to  it,  “ like  a tin  kettle  to  a 
dog’s  tail,”  he  awoke  to  the  full  measure  of  his  misery — > 
the  cup  was  full.  Fate  had  done  her  worst,  and  he  might 
have  exclaimed  with  Lear,  “ spit  fire — spout  rain,”  there  was 
nothing  in  store  for  him  of  further  misfortune. 

A drum-head  court-martial — a hint  “ to  sell  out  ” — ay, 
a sentence  of  “ dismissed  the  service,”  had  been  mortal 
calamities,  and  like  a man,  he  would  have  borne  them  ; but 
that  he,  Major  John  Jones,  D.G.S.C.P.B.,  etc.,  etc.,  who  had 
drank  the  “ pious,  glorious,  and  immortal,”  sitting  astride 
of  “ the  great  gun  of  Athlone,”  should  come  to  this  ! Alas,  and 
alas  ! Fie  retired  that  night  to  his  chamber  a “ sadder  if 
not  a wiser  man  ; ”'he  dreamed  that  the  “ statue  ” had  given 
place  to  the  unshapely  figure  of  Leo  X.  and  that  “ Lundy  now 
stood  where  Walker  stood  before.”  He  jumped  from  his 
bed  in  a moment  of  enthusiasm,  he  vowed  his  revenge,  and 
he  kept  his  vow. 

That  day  the  major  was  “ acting  field  officer.”  The  vari- 
ous patrols,  sentries,  pickets  and  out-posts,  were  all  under 
his  especial  control ; and  it  was  remarked  that  he  took  pecul- 
iar pains  in  selecting  the  men  for  night  duty,  which,  in  the 
prevailing  quietness  and  peace  of  that  time,  seemed  scarcely 
warrantable. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


7* 


Evening  drew  near,  and  Major  Jones,  summoned  by  the 
“ oft  heard  beat,”  wended  his  way  to  the  mess.  The  officers 
were  dropping  in,  and  true  as  “ the  needle  to  the  pole,”  came 
Father  Mooney  and  the  Abbe.  They  were  welcomed  with 
the  usual  warmth,  and  strange  to  say,  by  none  more  than  the 
major  himself,  whose  hilarity  knew  no  bounds. 

How  the  evening  passed  I shall  not  stop  to  relate  ; suffice 
it  to  say,  that  a more  brilliant  feast  of  wit  and  jollification, 
not  even  the  North  Cork  ever  enjoyed.  Father  Luke’s 
drollest  stories,  his  very  quaintest  humor  shone  forth,  and 
the  Abbe  sang  a new  “ Chdnson  d Boire that  Beranger 
might  have  envied. 

‘‘What  are  you  about,  my  dear  Father  D’Array  ! ” said  the 
colonel ; “ you  are  surely  not  rising  yet ; here’s  a fresh  cooper 
of  port  just  come  in ; sit  down,  I entreat.” 

“ I say  it  with  grief,  my  dear  colonel,  we  must  away  ; the 
half-hour  has  just  chimed,  and  we  must  be  within  ‘ the  gates 9 
before  twelve.  The  truth  is,  the  superior  has  been  making 
himself  very  troublesome  about  ‘our  carnal  amusements’ 
as  he  calls  our  innocent  mirth,  and  we  must,  therefore,  be 
upon  our  guard.” 

“ Well,  if  it  must  be  so,  we  shall  not  risk  losing  your  society 
altogether,  for  an  hour  or  so  now ; so,  one  bumper  to  our  next 
meeting — to-morrow,  mind,  and  now,  M.  D’Abbe,  au  revoir.” 

The  worthy  fathers  finished  their  glasses,  and  taking  a 
most  affectionate  leave  of  their  kind  entertainers,  sallied  forth 
under  the  guidance  of  Major  Jones,  who  insisted  upon  accom- 
panying them  part  of  the  way,  as,  “ from  information  he  had 
received,  the  sentries  were  doubled  in  some  places,  and  the 
usual  precautions  against  surprise  all  taken.”  Much  as  this 
polite  attention  surprised  the  objects  of  it,  his  brother  officers 
wondered  still  more,  and  no  sooner  did  they  perceive  the 
major  and  his  companions  issue  forth,  than  they  set  out  in  a 
body  to  watch  where  this  most  novel  and  unexpected  com- 
plaisance would  terminate. 

When  the  priests  reached  the  door  of  the  barrack-yard,  they 
again  turned  to  utter  their  thanks  to  the  major,  and  entreat 
him  once  more,  “ not  to  come  a step  farther.  There  now, 
major,  we  know  the  path  well,  so  just  give  us  the  pass,  and 
don’t  stay  out  in  the  night  air.” 

“Ah,  oui,  Monsieur  Jones,”  said  the  Abbe,  “ retournez,  je 
vous  prie.  We  are,  I may  say,  chez  nous.  Ces  braves  gens, 
les  North  Cork,  know  us  by  this  time.” 


p 


marry  lorreqvrr. 


The  Major  smiled,  while  he  still  pressed  his  services  to 
see  them  past  the  pickets,  but  they  were  resolved  and  would 
not  be  denied. 

“ With  the  word  for  the  night,  we  want  nothing  more,”  saicj 
Father  Luke. 

“ Well,  then,”  said  the  major,  in  the  gravest  tone,  and  he 
was  naturally  grave,  “ you  shall  have  your  wray,  but  remem- 
ber to  call  out  loud,  for  the  first  sentry  is  a little  deaf,  and  a 
very  passionate,  ill-tempered  fellow  to  boot.” 

“ Never  fear,”  said  Father  Mooney,  laughing ; “ I’ll  go 
bail  he’ll  hear  me.” 

“ Well — the  word  for  the  night  is — ‘ Bloody  end  to  the 
Pope  ’ — don’t  forget  now*  ‘ Bloody  end  to  the  Pope/  ” and 
with  these  words  he  banged  the  door  between  him  and  the 
unfortunate  priests  ; and  as  bolt  was  fastened  after  bolt,  they 
heard  him  laughing  to  himself  like  a fiend  over  his  vengeance. 

“ And  big  bad  luck  to  ye,  Major  Jones,  for  the  same,  every 
day  ye- see  a paving  stone.”  was  the  faint  sub-audible  ejacu- 
lation of  Father  Luke,  when  he  was  recovered  enough  to 
speak. 

“ Sacristi ! que  nous  sommes  attrapes,”  said  the  Abbe, 
scarcely  able  to  avoid  laughing  at  the  situation  in  which 
they  were  placed. 

“ Well,  there’s  the  quarter  chiming  now ; we’ve  no  time 
to  lose — Major  Jones!  Major,  darling!  don’t  now,  ah, 
don’t ! sure  ye  know  we’ll  be  ruined  entirely — there  now, 
just  change  it,  like  a dacent  fellow — the  devil’s  luck  to 
him,  he’s  gone.  Well,  we  can’t  stay  here  in  the  rain  all 
night,  and  be  expelled  in  the  morning  afterward — so  come 
along.” 

They  jogged  on  for  a few  minutes  in  silence,  till  they 
came  to  that  part  of  the  “ Duke’s  ” demesne  wall,  where  the 
first  sentry  was  stationed.  By  this  time  the  officers,  headed 
by  the  major,  had  quietly  slipped  out  of  the  gate,  and  were  fol- 
lowing their  steps  at  a convenient  distance. 

The  fathers  had  stopped  to  consult  together,  what  they 
should  do  in  this  trying  emergency — when  their  whisper 
being  overheard,  the  sentinel  called  out  gruffly,  in  the  genuine 
dialect  of  his  country,  “ Who  goes  that  ?” 

“ Father  Luke  Mooney  and  the  Abb6  D’Array,”  said  the 
former,  in  his  most  bland  and  insinuating  tone  of  voice,  a 
quality  he  most  eminently  possessed. 

“ Stand  and  give  the  countersign.” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


73 


u We  are  coming  from  the  mess,  and  going  home  to  the 
college,”  said  Father  Mooney,  evading  the  question,  and 
gradually  advancing  as  he  spoke. 

“ Stand,  or  I’ll  shot  ye,”  said  the  North  Corkian. 

, Father  Luke  halted,  while  a muttered  “ Blessed  Virgin  ! ” 
announced  his  state  of  fear  and  trepidation. 

“ D’Array,  I say,  what  are  we  to  do  ? ” 

“ The  countersign,”  said  the  sentry,  whose  figure  they 
could  perceive  in  the  dim  distance  of  about  thirty  yards. 

“Sure  ye’ll  let  us  pass,  my  good  lad,  and  ye’ll  have  a 
friend  in  Father  Luke  the  longest  day  ye  live,  and  ye  might 
have  a worse  in  time  of  need ; ye  understand.” 

Whether  he  did  understand  or  not,  he  certainly  did  not 
heed,  for  his  only  reply  was  the  short  click  of  his  gun-lock, 
that  bespeaks  a preparation  to  fire. 

“ There’s  no  help  now,”  said  Father  Luke.  “ I see  he’s  a 
haythen  ; and  bad  luck  to  the  major,  I say  again  ; ” and  this 
in  the  fullness  of  his  heart  he  uttered  aloud. 

“ That’s  not  the  countersign,”  said  the  inexorable  sentry* 
striking  the  butt-end  of  the  musket  on  the  ground  with  a 
crash  that  smote  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  priests. 

Mumble — mumble — “ to  the  Pope,”  said  Father  Luke, 
pronouncing  the  last  words  distinctly,  after  the  approved 
practice  of  a Dublin  watchman,  on  being  awoke  from  his 
dreams  of  row  and  riot  by  the  last  toll  of  the  Post-office,  and 
not  knowing  whether  it  has  struck  “ twelve  ” or  “ three  ” sings 
out  the  word  “ o’clock,”  in  a long  sonorous  drawl,  that 
wakes  every  sleeping  citizen  and  yet  tells  nothing  how  time 
speeds  on  his  flight.” 

I “ Louder,”  said  the  sentry,  in  a voice  of  impatience. 

“ to  the  Pope.” 

“ I don’t  hear  the  first  part.” 

“ O,  then,”  said  the  priest,  with  a sigh  that  might  have 
melted  the  heart  of  anything  but  a sentry,  “ Bloody  end  to 
the  Pope;  and  may  the  saints  in  heaven  forgive  me  for 
saying«it.” 

“ Again,”  called  out  the  soldier  ; “ and  no  muttering.” 

“ Bloody  end  to  the  Pope,”  cried  Father  Luke,  in  bitter 
desperation. 

“ Bloody  end  to  the  Pope,”  echoed  the  Abbe. 

“ Pass,  bloody  end  to  the  Pope,  and  good-night,”  said  the 
sentry,  resuming  his  rounds,  while  a loud  and  uproarious., 
peal  of  laughter  behind  told  the  unlucky  priests  they  were 


74 


HARR  V L ORREQ  UER. 


overheard  by  others,  and  the  story  would  be  over  the  whole 
town  in  the  morning. 

Whether  it  was  that  the  penance  for  their  heresy  took  long 
in  accomplishing,  or  that  they  never  could  summon  courage 
sufficient  to  face  their  persecutor,  certain  it  is,  the  North 
Cork  saw  them  no  more,  nor  were  they  ever  observed 
to  pass  the  precincts  of  the  college  while  that  regiment 
occupied  Maynooth. 

Major  Jones  himself,  and  his  confederates,  could  not  have 
more  heartily  relished  this  story,  than  did  the  party  to  whom 
the  doctor  related  it.  Much,  if  not  all  the  amusement  it 
afforded,  however,  resulted  from  his  inimitable  mode  of 
telling,  and  the  power  of  mimicry  with  which  he  conveyed 
the  dialogue  with  the  sentry,,  and  this,  alas,  must  be  lost  to 
my  readers,  at  least  to  that  portion  of  them  not  fortunate 
enough  to  possess  Dr.  Finucane’s  acquaintance. 

“ Fin ! Fin ! your  long  story  has  nearly  famished  m2,” 
said  the  padre,  as  the  laugh  subsided  ; “ and  there  you  sit 
now  with  the  jug  at  your  elbow  this  half-hour ; I never 
thought  you  would  forget  your  old  friend  Martin  Hanegan’s 
aunt.” 

“ Here’s  to  her  health,”  said  Fin  ; “ and  your  reverence 
will  get  us  the  chant.” 

“ Agreed,”  said  Father  Malachi,  finishing  a bumper ; and 
after  giving  a few  preparatory  hems,  he  sang  the  following 
“ singularly  wild  and  beautiful  poem,”  as  some  one  calls 
Christabel : 

“ Here’s  a health  to  Martin  Hanegan’s  aunt, 

And  I’ll  tell  ye  the  reason  why — 

She  eats  bekase  she  is  hungry, 

And  drinks  bekase  she  is  dry. 

“ And  if  ever  a man 
Stopped  the  course  of  a can, 

Martin  Hanegan’s  aunt  would  cry — 

* Arrah,  fill  up  your  glass, 

And  let 'the  jug  pass  : • 

How  d’ye  know  but  your  neighbor’s  dhry  ? ’ ” 

“ Come,  my  lord  and  gentlemen,  de  capo , if  ye  please. 
Fill  up  your  glass,”  etc. ; and  the  chanson  was  chorused  with 
a strength  and  vigor  that  would  have  astonished  the  Philhar- 
monic. 

The  mirth  and  fun  now  grew  “fast  and  furious,”  and 


BARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


75 


Father  Malachi,  rising  with  the  occasion,  flung  his  reckless 
drollery  and  fun  on  every  side,  sparing  none,  from  his  cousin 
to  the  coadjutor.  It  was  now  that  peculiar  period  in  the 
evening’s  enjoyment,  when  an  expert  and  practical  chairman 
gives  up  all  interference  or  management,  and  leaves  every- 
thing to  take  its  course ; this,  then,  was  the  happy  mgment 
selected  by  Father  Malachi  to  propose  the  little  “ contri- 
bution.” He  brought  a plate  from  a side-table,  and  placing 
it  before  him,  addressed  the  company  in  a very  brief  but 
sensible  speech,  detailing  the  object  of  the  institution  he  was 
advocating,  and  concluding  with  the  following  words  : “ And 
now  ye’ll  just  give  whatever  ye  like,  according  to  your  means 
in  life,  and  what  ye  can  spare.” 

The  admonition,  like  the  “ morale  ” of  an  income  tax,  hav- 
ing the  immediate  effect  of  pitting  each  man  against  his 
neighbor,  and  suggesting  to  their  already  excited  spirits  all 
the  ardor  of  gambling,  without,  however,  a prospect  of  gain. 
The  plate  was  first  handed  to  me  in  honor  of  my  “ rank,  ” 
and  having  deposited  upon  it  a handful  of  small  silver,  the 
priest  ran  his  fingers  through  the  coin,  and  called  out : 

“ Five  pounds  ! at  least ; not  a farthing  less,  as  I’m  a sin- 
ner. Look,  then — see,  now ; they  tell  ye,  the  gentlemen 
don’t  care  for  the  like  of  ye,  but  see  for  yourselves.  May  I 
trouble  y’r  lordship  to  pass  the  plate  to  Mr.  Mahony — he’s 
impatient,  I see.” 

Mr.  Mahony,  about  whom  I perceived  very  little  of  the 
impatience  alluded  to,  was  a grim-looking  old  Christian,  in  a 
rabbit-skin  waistcoat,  with  long  flaps,  who  fumbled  in  the  re- 
cesses of  his  breeches  pocket  for  five  minutes,  and  then 
drew  forth  three  shillings,  which  he  laid  upon  the  plate,  with 
what  I fancied  very  much  resembled  a sigh. 

“ Six  and  sixpence,  is  it  ? or  five  shillings  ? — all  the  same, 
Mr.  Mahony,  and  I’ll  not  forget  the  thrifle  you  were  speak- 
ing about  this  morning  anyway,”  and  here  he  leaned  over  as 
interceding  with  me  for  him,  but  in  reality  to  whisper  into 
my  ear,  “the  greatest  miser  from  this  to  Castlebar.” 

“ Who’s  that  put  down  the  half-guinea  in  goold  ? ” (and 
this  time  he  spoke  the  truth).  “ Who’s  that,  I say  ? ” 

“ Tim  Kennedy,  your  reverence,”  said  Tim,  stroking  his 
hair  down  with  one  hand,  and  looking  proud  and  modest,  at 
the  same  moment. 

“ Tim,  ye’re  a credit  to  us  any  day,  and  I always  said  so. 
It’s  a gauger  he’d  like  to  be,  my  lord,”  said  he,  turning  to 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


7 6 

me,  in  a kind  of  stage  whisper.  I nodded  and  muttered 
something,  when  he  thanked  me  most  profoundly  as  if  his 
suit  had  prospered. 

“ Mickey  Oulahan — the*  lord’s  looking  at  ye,  Mickey.” 
This  was  said  pranissime  across  the  table,  and  had  the  effect 
of  increasing  Mr.  Oulahan’s  donation  from  five  shillings  to 
seven — the  last  two  being  pitched  in  very  much  in  the  style 
t)f  a gambler  making  his  final  coup,  and  crying,  “ va  banquet 

“ The  Oulahans  were  always  dacent  people — dacent  peo- 
ple, my  lord.” 

“ Be  gorra,  the  Oulahans  was  niver  dacenter  nor  the 
Molowneys,  anyhow,”  said  a tall  athletic  young  fellow,  as  he 
threw  down  three  crown  pieces,  with  an  energy  that  made 
every  coin  leap  from  the  plate. 

“ They’ll  do  now,”  said  Father  Brennan  ; “ I’ll  leave  them 
to  themselves,”  and  truly  the  eagerness  to  get  the  plate  and 
put  down  the  subscription,  fully  equalled  the  rapacious 
anxiety  I have  witnessed  in  an  old  maid  at  loo,  to  get  posses- 
sion of  a thirty-shilling  pool,  be  the  same  more  or  less, 
which  lingered  on  its  way  to  her,  in  the  hands  of  many  a fair 
competitor. 

“ Mr.  M’Neesh  ” — Curzon  had  hitherto  escaped  all  notice 
— “Mr.  M’Neesh,  to  your  good  health,”  cried  Father  Bren- 
nan. “ It’s  many  a secret  they’ll  be  getting  out  o’  ye  down 
there  about  the  Scotch  husbandry.” 

Whatever  poor  Curzon  knew  of  “ drills,”  certainly  did  not 
extend  to  them  when  occupied  by  turnips.  This  allusion  of 
the  priest’s  being  caught  up  by  the  party  at  the  foot  of  the 
table,  they  commenced  a series  of  inquiries  into  different 
Scotch  plans  of  tillage — his  brief  and  unsatisfactory  answers 
to  which,  they  felt  sure,  were  given  in  order  to  evade  im- 
parting information.  By  degrees,  as  they  continued  to  press 
him  with  questions,  his  replies  grew  more  short,  and  a gen- 
eral feeling  of  dislike  on  both  sides  was  not  very  long  in 
following. 

The  father  saw  this,  and  determining  with  his  usual  tact 
to  repress  it,  called  on  the  adjutant  for  a song.  Now, 
whether  he  had  but  one  in  the  world,  or  whether  he  took 
this  mode  of  retaliating  for  the  annoyance  he  had  suffered, 
I know  not;  but  true  it  is,  he  finished  his  tumbler  at  a 
draught,  and  with  a voice  of  no  very  peculiar  sweetness, 
though  abundantly  loud,  began  “ The  Boyne  Water.” 

flQ  had  just  reached  the  word  “ battle,”  in  the  second  line, . 


Harry  lorrequer. 


11 

upon  which  he  was  bestowing  what  he  meant  to  be  a shake, 
when  as  if  the  word  suggested  it,  it  seemed  the  signal  for  a 
general  engagement.  Decanters,  glasses,  jugs,  candlesticks 
— ay,  and  the  money-dish,  flew  right  and  left — all  originally 
intended,  it  is  true,  for  the  head  of  the  luckless  adjutant,  but 
as  they  now  and  then  missed  their  aim,  and  came  in  contact 
with  the  “ wrong  man,”  invariably  provoked  retaliation,  and 
in  a very  few  minutes  the  battle  became  general. 

What  may  have  been  the  doctor’s  political  sentiments  on 
this  occasion  I cannot  even  guess  ; but  he 'seemed  bent  on 
performing  the  part  of  a “ convivial  Lord  Stanley,”  and 
maintaining  a dignified  neutrality.  With  this  apparent  ob- 
ject, he  mounted  upon  the  table,  to  raise  himself,  I suppose, 
above  the  dir>  and  commotion  of  party  clamor,  and  brandish- 
ing a jug  of  scalding  water,  bestowed  it  with  perfect  impar- 
tiality on  the  combatants  on  either  side.  This  Whig  plan  of 
conciliation,  however  well  intended,  seemed  not  to  prosper 
with  either  party ; and  many  were  the  missiles  directed  at 
the  ill-starred  doctor.  Meanwhile,  Father  Malachi,  whether 
following  the  pacific  instinct  of  his  order,  in  seeking  an  asy- 
lum in  troublesome  times,  or  equally  moved  by  an  old  habit 
to  gather  coin  in  low  places  (much  of  the  money  having 
fallen),  was  industriously  endeavoring  to  insert  himself 
beneath  the  table ; in  this,  with  one  vigorous  push,  he  at  last 
succeeded,  but  in  so  doing,  lifted  it  from  its  legs,  and  thus 
destroying  poor  “ Fin’s  ” gravity,  precipitated  him,  jug  and 
all,  into  the  thickest  of  the  fray,  where  he  met  with  that  kind 
reception  such  a benefactor  ever  receives  at  the  hands  of  a 
grateful  public.  I meanwhile  hurried  to  rescue  poor  Cur- 
zon,  who,  having  fallen  to  the  ground,  was  getting  a cast  of 
his  features  taken  in  pewter,  for  such  seemed  the  operation 
a stout  farmer  was  performing  on  the  adjutant’s  face  with 
a quart.  With  considerable  difficulty,  notwithstanding  my 
supposed  “ lordship,”  I succeeded  in  freeing  him  from  his 
present  position  ; and  he  concluding,  probably,  that  enough 
had  been  done  for  one  “ sitting,”  most  unwillingly  permitted 
me  to  lead  him  from  the  room.  I was  soon  joined  by  the 
doctor,  who  assisted  me  in  getting  my  poor  friend  to  bed  ; 
which  being  done,  he  most  eagerly  entreated  me  to  join  the 
company.  This,  however  I firmly  but  mildly  declined,  very 
much  to  his  surprise  ; for  as  he  remarked,  “ They’ll  all  be 
like  lambs  now,  for  they  don’t  believe  there’s  a whole  bone 
in  his  body.” 


78 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


Expressing  my  deep  sense  of  the  Christian-like  forbearance 
of  the  party,  I pleaded  fatigue,  and  bidding  him  good-night, 
adjourned  to  my  bedroom  ; and  here,  although  the  arrange- 
ments fell  somewhat  short  of  the  luxurious  ones  appertaining 
to  my  late  apartment  at  Callonby,  they  were  most  grateful 
at  the  moment ; and  having  “ addressed  myself  to  slumber,” 
fell  fast  asleep,  and  only  awoke  late  on  the  following  morning 
to  wonder  where  I was  ; from  any  doubts  as  to  which  I 
was  speedily  relieved  by  the  entrance  of  the  priest’s  bare- 
footed “ colleen  ” to  deposit  on  my  table  a bottle  of  soda 
water,  and  announce  breakfast,  with  his  reverence’s  compli- 
ments. 

Having  made  a hasty  toilet,  I proceeded  to  the  parlor, 
which,  however  late  events  might  have  impressed  upon  my 
memory,  I could  scarcely  recognize.  Instead  of  the  long  oak 
table  and  the  wassail  bowl,  there  stood  near  the  fire  a small 
round  table,  covered  with  a snow-white  cloth,  upon  which 
shone  in  unrivalled  brightness  a very  handsome  tea  equipage 
— the  hissing  kettle  on  one  hob  was  vis-a-vis' d by  a grid- 
iron with  three  newly  taken  trout,  frying  under  the  rever- 
ential care  of  Father  Malachi  himself — a heap  of  eggs  ranged 
like  shot  in  an  ordnance  yard,  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
table,  while  a formidable  pile  of  buttered  toast  browned 
before  the  grate — the  morning  papers  were  airing  upon  the 
hearth — everything  bespoke  that  attention  to  comfort  and 
enjoyment  one  likes  to  discover  in  the  house  where  chance 
may  have  domesticated  him  for  a day  or  two. 

“ Good-morning,  Mr.  Lorrequer.  I trust  you  have  rested 
well,”  said  Father  Malachi,  as  I entered. 

“ Never  better  ; but  where  are  our  friends  ? ” 

“ I have  been  visiting  and  comforting  them  in  their  afflic- 
tion, and  I may  with  truth  assert  it  is  not  often  my  fortune 
to  have  three  as  sickly-looking  guests.  That  was  a most 
unlucky  affair  last  night,  and  I must  apologize.” 

“ Don’t  say  a word,  I entreat  ; I saw  how  it  all  occurred, 
and  am  quite  sure  if  it  had  not  been  for  poor  Curzon’s  ill- 
timed  melody ” 

“ You  are  quite  right,”  said  the  father,  interrupting  me. 
“ Your  friend’s  taste  for  music — bad  luck  to  it ! — was  the 
i teterrima  causa  belli'  ” 

“And  the  subscription,”  said  I ; “how  did  it  succeed  ? ” 

“ Oh,  the  money  went  in  the  commotion ; and  although  I 
have  got  some  seven  pounds  odd  shillings  of  it,  the  war  was 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


79 


a most  expensive  one  to  me.  I caught  old  Mahoney  very 
busy  under  the  table  during  the  fray  ; but  let  us  say  no  more 
about  it  now — draw  over  your  chair.  Tea  or  coffee  1 there’s 
the  rum  if  you  like  it  1 chasse .’  ” 

I immediately  obeyed  the  injunction,  and  commenced  a 
vigorous  assault  upon  the  trout,  caught  as  he  informed  me, 
within  twenty  perches  of  the  house.” 

“Your  poor  friend’s  nose  is  scarcely  regimental,”  said  he, 

‘ this  morning ; and  as  for  Fin,  he  was  never  remarkable 
for  beauty,  so,  though  they  might  cut  and  hack,  they  could 
scarcely  disfigure  him,  as  Juvenal  says — isn’t  it  Juvenal  ? ” 

“ * Vacuus  viator  cantabit  ante  latronem : ’ i 

or  in  the  vernacular : , 

“ 4 The  empty  traveller  may  whistle 

Before  the  robber  and  his  pistil  ’ (pistol). 

There’s  the  Chili  vinegar — another  morsel  of  the  trout  ? ” 

“ I thank  you  : what  excellent  coffee,  Father  Malachi  ! ” '• 
“ A secret  I learned  at  St.  Omer’s  some  thirty  years  since. 
Any  letters,  Bridget  ? ” — to  a damsel  who  entered  with  a 
packet  in  her  hand. 

“ A gossoon  from  Kilrush,  y’r  reverence,  with  a bit  of  note 
for  the  gentleman  there.” 

“ For  me ! — ah,  true  enough.  Harry  Lorrequer,  Esq., 
Kilrush — try  Carrigaholt.”  So  ran  the  superscription — the 
first  part  being  in  a lady’s  handwriting ; the  latter  very  like 
the  “ rustic  paling  ” of  the  worthy  Mrs.  Healy  style.  The 
seal  was  a large  one,  bearing  a coronet  at  top,  and  the  motto 
in  old  Norman-French  told  me  it  came  from  Callonby. 

With  what  a trembling  hand  and  beating  heart  I broke  it 
open,  and  yet  feared  to  read  it — so  much  of  my  destiny 
might  be  in  that  simple  page.  For  once  in  my  life  my  san- 
guine spirit  failed  me,  my  mind  could  take  in  but  one  cas- 
ualty, that  Lady  Jane  had  divulged  to  her  family  the  nature 
of  my  attentions,  and  that  in  the  letter  before  me  lay  a cold 
mandate  of  dismissal  from  her  presence  forever. 

At  last  I summoned  courage  to  read  it ; but  having  scrupled 
to  present  to  my  readers  the  Reverend  Father  Brennan  at 
the  tail  of  a chapter,  let  me  not  be  less  punctilious  in  the 
introduction  of  her  ladyship’s  billet. 


8a 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  LADY’S  LETTER-PETER  AND  HIS  ACQUAINTANCE — TOO  LATE 

Her  ladyship’s  letter  ran  thus  : 

“ Callonby,  Tuesday  morning. 

(i  My  dear  Mr.  Lorrequer, — My  Lord  has  deputed  me 
to  convey  to  you  our  adieus,  and  at  the  same  time  to  express 
our  very  great  regret  that  we  should  not  have  seen  you 
before  our  departure  from  Ireland.  A sudden  call  of  the 
House,  and  some  unexpected  ministerial  changes,  require 
Lord  Callonby’s  immediate  presence  in  town  ; and  probably 
before  this  reaches  you  we  shall  be  on  the  road.  Lord  Kil- 
kee,  who  left  us  yesterday,  was  much  distressed  at  not  having 
seen  you — he  desired  me  to  say  you  shall  hear  from  him 
from  Leamington.  Although  writing  amid  all  the  haste  and 
bustle  of  departure,  I must  not  forget  the  principal  part  of 
my  commission,  nor  lady-like  defer  it  to  a postscript ; my 
lord  entreats  that  you  will,  if  possible,  pass  a month  or  two 
with  us  in  London  this  season ; and  if  any  difficulty  should 
occur  in  obtaining  leave  of  absence,  to  make  any  use  of  his 
name  you  think  fit  at  the  Horse  Guards,  where  he  has  some 
influence.  Knowing,  as  I do,  with  what  kindness  you  ever 
accede  to  the  wishes  of  your  friends,  I need  not  say  how 
much  gratification  this  will  afford  us  ail ; but,  sans  response, 
we  expect  you.  Believe  me  to  remain,  yours  very  sincerely, 

“ Charlotte  Callonby. 

“ P.  S. — We  are  all  quite  well  except  Lady  Jane,  who  has 
a slight  cold  and  has  been  feverish  for  the  last  day  or  two.” 

Words  cannot  convey  any  idea  of  the  torrent  of  contend- 
ing emotions  under  which  I perused  this  letter.  The  sud- 
denness of  the  departure,  without  an  opportunity  of  even  a 
moment’s  leave-taking,  completely  unmanned  me.  What 
would  I not  have  given  to  be  able  to  see  her  once  more, 
even  for  an  instant  to  say  “ a good-bye  ” — to  watch  the 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


feeling  with  which  she  parted  from  me,  and  augur  from  it 
. either  favorably  to  my  heart’s  dearest  hope,  of  darkest 
despair.  As  I continued  to  read  on,  the  kindly  tone  of  the 
remainder  reassured  me,  and  when  I came  to  the  invitation 
to  London,  which  plainly  argued  a wish  on  their  part  to 
perpetuate  the  intimacy,  I was  obliged  to  read  it  again 
and  again,  before  I could  convince  myself  of  its  reality. 
There  it  was,  however,  most  distinctly  and  legibly  impressed 
in  her  ladyship’s  fairest  calligraphy  ; and  certainly  great  as 
was  its  consequence  to  me  at  the  time,  it  by  no  means 
formed  the  principal  part  of  the  communication.  The  two 
lines  of  postscript  contained  more,  far  more  food  for  hopes 
and  fears  than  did  all  the  rest  of  the  epistle. 

Lady  Jane  was  ill  then,  slightly  however — a mere  cold  ; 
true,  but  she  was  feverish.  I could  not  help  asking  myself 
what  share  had  I in  causing  that  flushed  cheek  and  anxious 
eye,  and  pictured  to  myself,  perhaps  with  more  vividness 
than  reality,  a thousand  little  traits  of  manner,  all  proofs 
strong  as  holy  writ  to  my  sanguine  mind,  that  my  affection 
was  returned,  and  that  I loved  not  in  vain.  Again  and 
again  I read  over  the  entire  letter ; never  truly  did  a nisi 
prius  lawyer  con  over  a new  act  of  Parliament  with  more 
searching  ingenuity,  to  detect  its  hidden  meaning*  than  did 
I to  unravel  through  its  plain  phraseology  the  secret  inten- 
tion of  the  writer  toward  me. 

There  is  an  old  and  not  less  true  adage,  that  what  we 
wish  we  readily  believe  ; and  so  with  me — I found  myself  an 
easy  convert  to  my  own  hopes  and  desires;  and  actually 
ended  by  persuading  myself — no  very  hard  task — that  my 
Lord  Callonby  had  not  only  witnessed  but  approved  of  my 
attachment  to  his  beautiful  daughter,  and  for  reasons  prob- 
ably known  to  him,  but  concealed  from  me,  opined  that 
I was  a suitable  “parti”  and  gave  all  due  encouragement  to 
my  suit.  The  hint  about  using  his  lordship’s  influence  at 
the  Horse  Guards  I resolved  to  benefit  by ; not,  however,  in 
obtaining  leave  of  absence,  which  I hoped  to  accomplish 
more  easily,  but  with  his  good  sanction  in  pushing  my 
promotion,  when  I claimed  him  as  my  right  honorable 
father-in-law — a point  on  the  propriety  of  which  I had  now 
fully  satisfied  myself.  What  visions  of  rising  greatness 
burst  upon  my  mind,  as  I thought  on  the  prospect  that 
opened  before  me  ! but  here  let  me  do  myself  the  justice  to 
record  that,  amid  all  my  pleasure  and  exultation,  my  proud- 


82 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


est  thought  was  in  the  anticipation  of  possessing  one  in 
every  way  so  much  my  superior — the  very  consciousness  of 
which  imparted  a thrill  of  fear  to  my  heart  that  such  good 
fortune  was  too  much  even  to  hope  for. 

How  long  I might  have  luxuriated  in  such  Chateaux  en 
Espagne  heaven  knows  ; thick  and  thronging  fancies  came 
abundantly  to  my  mind,  and  it  was  with  something  of  the 
feeling  of  the  porter  in  the  Arabian  Nights,  as  he  surveyed 
the  fragments  of  his  broken  ware,  hurled  down  in  a moment 
of  glorious  dreaminess,  that  I turned  to  look  at  the  squat 
and  unaristocratic  figure  of  Father  Malachi,  as  he  sat  read- 
ing his  newspaper  before  the  fire.  How  came  I in  such 
company ; methinks  the  Dean  of  Windsor,  or  the  Bishop  of 
Durham,  had  been  a much  more  seemly  associate  for  one 
destined  as  I was  for  the  flood-tide  of  the  world’s  favor. 

My  eye  at  this  instant  rested  upon  the  date  of  the  letter, 
which  was  that  of  the  preceding  morning,  and  immediately 
a thought  struck  me  that,  as  the  day  was  a lowering  and 
gloomy  one,  perhaps  they  might  have  deferred  their  journey, 
and  I at  once  determined  to  hasten  to  Callonby,  and,  if 
possible,  see  them  before  their  departure. 

“ Father  Brennan,”  said  I,  at  length,  “ I have  just  re- 
ceived a letter  which  compels  me  to  reach  Kilrush  as 
soon  as  possible.  Is  there  any  public  conveyance  in  the 
village  ? ” 

“You  don’t  talk  of  leaving  us,  surely,”  said  the  priest, 
“ and  a haunch  of  mutton  for  dinner,  and  Fin  says  he'll  be 
down,  and  your  friend,  too,  and  we’ll  have  poor  Beamish  in 
on  a sofa.” 

“ I am  sorry  to  say  my  business  will  not  permit  of  delay, 
but,  if  possible,  I shall  return  to  thank  you  for  all  your  kind- 
ness, in  a day  or  two — perhaps  to-morrow.” 

“ Oh,  then,”  said  Father  Brennan,  “ if  it  must  be  so,  why 
you  can  have  ‘ Pether,’  my  own  pad,  and  a better  you  never 
laid  leg  over;  only  give  him  his  own  time,  and  let  him* 
keep  the  4 canter,’  and  he’ll  never  draw  up  from  morning  till 
night ; and  now  I’ll  just  go  and  have  him  in  readiness  for 
you.” 

After  professing  my  warm  acknowledgments  to  the  good 
father  for  his  kindness,  I hastened  to  take  a hurried  farewell 
of  Curzon  before  going.  I found  him  sitting  up  in  bed, 
taking  his  breakfast ; a large  strip  of  black  plaster,  extend- 
ing from  the  corner  of  one  eye  across  the  nose,  and  ter- 


IfARRY  LORREQUER. 


*3 

minating  near  the  mouth,  denoted  the  locale  of  a goodly 
wound,  while  the  blue,  purple  and  yellow  patches  into  which 
his  face  was  partitioned  out,  left  you  in  doubt  whether  he 
now  resembled  the  knave  of  clubs  or  a new  map  of  €ie 
Ordnance  survey ; one  hand  was  rapped  up  in  a bandage, 
and  altogether  a more  rueful  and  woe-begone  figure  I have 
rarely  looked  upon  ; and  most  certainly  I am  of  opinion 
that  the  “ glorious,  pious  and  immortal  memory  ” would 
have  brought  pleasanter  recollections  to  Daniel  O’Connell 
himself  than  it  would  on  that  morning  to  the  adjutant  of  his 
Majesty’s  4-th. 

“ Ah,  Harry,”  said  he,  as  I entered,  “ what  Pandemonium 
is  this  we’ve  got  into  ? Did  you  ever  witness  such  a 
business  as  last  night’s  ? ” 

“ Why,  truly,”  said  I,  “ I know  of  bo  one  to  blame  but 
yourself  ; surely  you  must  have  known  what  a fracas  your 
infernal  song  would  bring  on.” 

“ I don’t  know  whether  I knew  it  or  not ; but  certainly 
at  the  moment  I should  have  preferred  anything  to  the  con- 
founded cross-examination  I was  under,  and  was  glad  to 
end  it  by  any  coup  d'etat.  One  wretch  was  persecuting  me 
about  green  crops,  and  another  about  the  feeding  of  bul- 
locks ; about  either  of  which  I knew  as  much  as  a bear 
does  of  a ballet.” 

“Well,  truly,  you  caused  a diversion  at  some  expense  to 
your  countenance,  for  I never  beheld  anything ” 

“ Stop  there,”  said  he,  “ you  surely  have  not  seen  the 
doctor — he  beats  me  hollow — they  have  scarcely  left  so  much 
hair  on  his  head  as  would  do  for  an  Indian’s  scalp  lock  ; and, 
of  a verity,  his  aspect  is  awful  this  morning  ; he  has  just  been 
here,  and  by-the-by  has  told  me  all  about  the  affair  with 
Beamish.  It  appears  that  somewhere  you  met  him  at  dinner, 
and  gave  a very  flourishing  account  of  a relative  of  his  who 
you  informed  him  was  not  only  selected  for  some  very  dashing 
service,  but  actually  the  personal  friend  of  Picton  ; and  after 
the  family  having  blazed  the  matter  all  >over  Cork,  and  given 
a great  entertainment  in  honor  of  their  kinsman,  it  turns  out 
that,  on  the  glorious  18th,  he  ran  away  to  Brussels  faster 
than  even  the  French  to  Charleroi ; for  which  act,  however, 
there  was  no  aspersion  ever  cast  upon  his  courage,  that  quality 
being  defended  at  the  expense  of  his  honesty  ; in  a word,  he 
was  the  paymaster  of  his  company,  and  had,  what  Theodore 
Hook  calls  an  ‘ affection  of  his  chest,’  that  required  change 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


of  air.  Looking  only  to  the  running  away  part  of  the  matter, 
1 unluckily  expressed  some  regret  that  he  did  not  belong  to 
the  North  Cork,  and  I remarked  the  doctor  did  not  seem  to 
relish  the  allusion,  and  as  I only  now  remember,  it  was  his 
regiment,  I suppose  I’m  in  for  more  mischief.” 

I had  no  time  to  enjoy  Curzon’s  dilemma,  and  had  barely 
informed  him  of  my  intended  departure,  when  a voice  from 
without  the  room  proclaimed  that  “ Pether  ” was  ready,  and, 
having  commissioned  the  adjutant  to  say  the  “ proper  ” to  Mr. 
Beamish  and  the  doctor,  hurried  away,  and  after  a hearty 
shake  of  the  hand  from  Father  Brennan,  and  a faithful 
promise  to  return  soon,  I mounted  and  set  off. 

Peter’s  pace  was  of  all  others  the  one  least  likely  to  disturb 
the  lucubrations  of  a castle-builder  like  myself ; without  any 
admonition  from  whip  or  spur  he  maintained  a steady  and 
constant  canter,  which,  I am  free  to  confess,  was  more 
agreeable  to  sit,  than  it  was  graceful  to  behold ; for  his  head 
being  much  lower  than  his  tail,  he  every  moment  appeared 
in  the  attitude  of  a diver  about  to  plunge  into  the  water,  and 
more  than  once  I had  misgivings  that  I would  consult  my 
safety  better  if  I sat  with  my  face  to  the  tail ; however,  what 
will  not  habit  accomplish  ? Before  I had  gone  a mile  or  two, 
I was  so  lost  in  my  own  reveries  and  reflections  that  I knew 
nothing  of  my  mode  of  progression,  and  had  only  thoughts 
and  feelings  for  the  destiny  that  awaited  me  ; sometimes  I 
would  fancy  myself  seated  in  the  Plouse  of  Commons  (on 
the  ministerial  benches,  of  course),  while  some  leading 
oppositionist  was  pronouncing  a glowing  panegyric  upon 
the  eloquent  and  statesmanlike  speech  of  the  gallant  colonel 
— myself ; then  I thought  I was  making  arrangements  for 
setting  out  for  my  new  appointment,  and  Sancho  Panza  never 
coveted  the  government  of  an  island  more  than  I did,  though 
only  a West  Indian  one  ; and  lastly,  I saw  myself  the  chosen 
diplomat  on  a difficult  mission,  and  was  actually  engaged 
in  the  easy  and  agreeable  occupation  of  outmanoeuvring 
Talleyrand  and  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  when  Peter  suddenly  drew 
up  at  the  door  of  a small  cabin,  and  convinced  me  that  I was 
still  a mortal  man,  and  a lieutenant  in  his  Majesty’s  4-th. 
Before  I had  time  afforded  me  even  to  guess  at  the  reason  of 
this  sudden  halt,  an  old  man  emerged  from  the  cabin,  which 
I saw  now  was  a road-side  ale-house,  and  presented  Peter 
with  a bucket  of  meal  and  water,  a species  of  “ viaticum” 
that  he  evidently  was  accustomed  to  at  this  place,  whether 


HARRY  LORREQt/ER. 


% 

bestrode  by  a priest  or  an  ambassador.  Before  me,  lay  a 
long  straggling  street  of  cabins,  irregularly  thrown,  as  if 
riddled  over  the  ground;  this  I was  informed  was  Kilkee. 
While  my  good  steed,  therefore,  was  enjoying  his  potation,  I 
dismounted,  to  stretch  my  legs  and  look  about  me,  and 
scarcely  had  I done  so  when  I found  half  the  population  of 
the  village  assembled  round  Peter,  whose  claims  to  notoriety, 
I now  learned,  depended  neither  upon  his  owner's  fame  n®r 
even  my  temporary  possession  of  him.  Peter,  in  fact,  had 
been  a racer  once — when,  the  Wandering  Jew  might  perhaps 
have  told  had  he  ever  visited  Clare,  for  not  the  oldest  in- 
habitant knew  the  date  of  his  triumphs  on  the  turf ; though 
they  were  undisputed  traditions,  and  never  did  any  man 
appear  bold  enough  to  call  them  in  question  ; whether  it  was 
from  his  patriarchal  character,  or  that  he  was  the  only  race- 
horse ever  known  in  his  county  I cannot  say,  but  of  a truth, 
the  Grand  Lama  could  scarcely  be  a greater  object  of 
reverence  in  Thibet,  than  was  Peter  in  Kilkee. 

“ Musha,  Peter,  but  it's  well  y’r  looking,”  cried  one. 

“ Ah,  thin,  maybe  ye  an’t  fat  on  the  ribs,"  cried  another. 

“ An  cockin'  his  tail  like  a coult,"  said  a third. 

I am  very  certain,  if  I might  venture  to  judge  from  the 
faces  about,  that,  had  the  favorite  for  the  St.  Leger  passed 
through  Kilkee  at  that  moment,  comparisons  very  little  to 
his  favor  had  been  drawn  from  the  assemblage  around  me. 
With  some  difficulty  I was  permitted  to  reach  my  much 
admired  steed,  and  with  a cheer,  which  was  sustained  and 
caught  up  by  every  denizen  of  the  village  as  I passed  through, 
I rode  on  my  way,  not  a little  amused  at  my  equivocal 
popularity. 

Being  desirous  to  lose  no  time,  I diverged  from  the  straight 
road  which  leads  to  Kilrush,  and  took  a cross  bridle-path  to 
Callonby  ; this  I afterward  discovered  was  a detour  of  a mile 
or  two,  and  it  was  already  sunset  when  I reached  the  entrance 
to  the  park.  I entered  the  avenue,  and  now  my  impatience 
became  extreme,  for,  although  Peter  continued  to  move  at 
the  same  uniform  pace,  I could  not  persuade  myself  that  he 
was  not  foundering  at  every  step,  and  was  quite  sure  we  were 
scarcely  advancing ; at  last  I reached  the  wooden  bridge, 
and  ascended  the  steep  slope,  the  spot  where  I had  first  met 
her,  on  whom  my  every  thought  now  rested.  I turned  the 
angle  of  the  clump  of  beech  trees  from  whence  the  first  view 
of  the  house  is  caught — I perceived  to  my  inexpressible 


86 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


delight  that  gleams  of  light  shone  from  many  of  the  windows, 
and  could  trace  their  passing  from  one  to  the  other.  I now 
drew  rein,  and  with  a heart  relieved  from  a load  of  anxiety, 
pulled  up  my  good  steed,  and  began  to  think  of  the  position 
in  which  a few  brief  seconds  would  place  me.  I reached  the 
small  flower  garden,  sacred  by  a thousand  endearing  recol- 
lections. Oh,  of  how  very  little  account  are  the  many  words 
of  passing  kindness,  and  moments  of  light-hearted  pleasure, 
when  spoken  or  felt,  compared  to  the  memory  of  them  when 
^alfowed  by  time  or  distance  ! 

“ The  place,  the  hour,  the  sunshine  and  the  shade,”  all 
reminded  me  of  the  happy  past,  and  all  brought  vividly  be- 
fore me  every  portion  of  that  dream  of  happiness  in  which  I 
was  so  utterly — so  completely  steeped — every  thought  of  the 
hopelessness  of  my  passion  was  lost  in  the  intensity  of  it, 
and  I did  not,  in  the  ardor  of  my  loving,  stop  to  think  of  its 
possible  success. 

It  was  strange  enough  that  the  extreme  impatience,  the 
hurried  anxiety,  I had  felt  and  suffered  from,  while  riding 
up  the  avenue,  had  now  fled  entirely,  and  in  its  place  I felt 
nothing  but  a diffident  distrust  of  myself,  and  a vague  sense 
of  awkwardness  about  intruding  thus  unexpectedly  upon  the 
family,  while  engaged  in  all  the  cares  and  preparations  for  a 
speedy  departure.  The  hall-door  lay  as  usual  wide  open, 
the  hall  itself  was  strewn  and  littered  with  trunks,  imperials, 
and  packing-cases,  and  the  hundred  et  ceteras  of  travelling 
baggage.  I hesitated  a moment  whether  I should  not  ring, 
but  at  last  resolved  to  enter  unannounced,  and,  presuming 
upon  my  intimacy,  see  what  effect  my  sudden  appearance 
would  have  on  Lady  Jane,  whose  feelings  towards  me  would 
be  thus  most  unequivocally  tested.  . I passed  along  the  wide 
corridor,  entered  the  music-room — it  was  still — I walked 
then  to  the  door  of  the  drawing-room — I paused — I drew  a 
full  breath — my  hand  treiiibled  slightly  as  I turned  the  lock 
— I entered — the  room  was  empty,  but  the  blazing  fire  upon 
the  hearth,  the  large  arm-chairs  drawn  around,  the  scattered 
books  upon  the  small  tables,  all  told  that  it  had  been  in- 
habited, a very  short  time  before.  Ah  ! thought  I,  looking 
at  my  watch,  they  are  at  dinner,  and  I began  at  once  to 
devise  a hundred  different  plans  to  account  for  my  late  ab- 
sence and  present  visit.  I knew  that  a few  minutes  would 
probably  bring  them  into  the  drawing-room,  and  I felt  flurried 
and  heated  as  the  time  drew  near.  At  last  I heard  voices 


HA  RRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


87 

without — I started  from  the  examination  of  a pencil-drawtng 
but  partly  finished,  but  the  artist  of  which  I could  not  be 
deceived  in — I listened— the  sounds  drew  near— I could  not 
distinguish  who  were  the  speakers — the  door-lock  turned, 
and  I rose  to  make  my  well-conned  but  half-forgotten  speech  ; 
and  oh,  confounded  disappointment,  Mrs.  Herbert,  the  house- 
keeper, entered.  She  started,  not  expecting  to  see  me,  and 
immediately  said  : 

“ Oh  ! Mr.  Lorrequer ! then  you’ve  missed  them.” 

“ Missed  them  ! ” said  I ; “ how — when — where  ? ” 

“ Did  you  not  get  a note  from  my  lord  ? ” 

“ No  ; when  was  it  written  ? ” 

“ Oh,  dear  me,  that  is  so  very  unfortunate.  Why,  sir,  my 
lord  sent  off  a servant  this  morning  to  Kilrush,  in  Lord 
Kilkee’s  tilbury,  to  request  you  would  meet  them  all  in  Ennis, 
this  evening,  where  they  had  intended  to  stop  for  to-night  ,*• 
and  they  awaited  here  till  near  four  o’clock  to-day,  but  when 
the  servant  came  back  with  the  intelligence  that  you  were 
from  home,  and  not  expected  to  return  soon,  they  were 
obliged  to  set  out,  and  are  not  going  to  make  any  delay  now 
till  they  reach  London.  The  last  direction,  however,  my 
lord  gave,  was  to  forward  my  ladyship’s  letter  as  soon  as 
possible.” 

What  I thought,  said,  or  felt,  might  be  a good  subject 
of  confession  to  Father  Malachi,  for  I fear  it  may  be  re* 
corded  among  my  sins,  as  I doubt  not  that  the  agony  I 
suffered  vented  itself  in  no  measured  form  of  speech  or  con- 
duct; but  I have  nothing  to  confess  here  on  the  subject, 
being  so  totally  overwhelmed  as  not  to  know  what  I did  of 
said.  My  first  gleam  of  reason  elicited  itself  by  asking  : 

“ Is  there,  then,  no  chance  of  their  stopping  in  Ennis  to- 
night ? ” As  I put  the  question  my  mind  reverted  to  Peter 
and  his  eternal  canter. 

“Oh,  dear,  no,  sir;  the  horses  are  ordered  to  take  them, 
since  Tuesday ; and  they  only  thought  of  staying  in  Ennis, 
if  you  came  time  enough  to  meet  them — and  they  will  be  so 
sorry.” 

“ Do  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Herbert  ? do  you  indeed  think 
so  ? ” said  I,  in  a most  insinuating  tone. 

“ I am  perfectly  sure  of  it,  sir.” 

“ Oh,  Mrs.  Herbert,  you  are  too  kind  to  think  so  ; but 
perhaps — that  is — maybe,  Mrs.  Herbert,  she  said  some- 
thing  ” 


88 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ Who,  sir  ? ” 

“ Lady  Callonby,  I mean  : did  her  ladyship  leave  any 

message  for  me  about  her  plants  ? or  did  she  remember ” 

Mrs.  Herbert  kept  looking  at  me  all  the  time,  with  her 
great  wide  gray  eyes,  while  I kept  stammering  and  blushing 
like  a school-boy. 

“ No,  sir;  her  ladyship  said  nothing,  sir;  but  Lady 
Jane ” 

“ Yes ; well,  what  of  Lady  Jane,  my  dear  Mrs.  Herbert  ? ” 
“ Oh,  sir  ! but  you  look  pale  ; would  not  you  like  to  have 

a little  wine  and  water — or  perhaps -” 

“ No,  thanks,  nothing  whatever  ; I am  just  a little  fatigued 

— but  you  were  mentioning ” 

“Yes,  sir;  I was  saying  that  Lady  Jane  was  mighty  par- 
ticular about  a small  plant ; she  ordered  it  to  be  left  in  her 
dressing-room,  though  Collins  told  her  to  have  some  of  the 
handsome  ones  of  the  green-house  she  would  have  nothing 
but  this,  and  if  you  were  only  to  hear  half  the  directions  she 
gave  about  keeping  it  watered  and  taking  off  dead  leaves, 
you’d  think  her  heart  was  set  on  it.” 

Mrs.  Herbert  would  have  had  no  cause  to  prescribe 
for  my  paleness  had  she  only  looked  at  me  this  time  ; fortu- 
nately, however,  she  was  engaged,  housekeeper-like,  in  bustling 
among  books,  papers,  etc.,  which  she  had  come  in  for  the 
purpose  of  arranging  and  packing  up.  She  being  left  behind 
to  bring  up  the  rear,  and  the  heavy  baggage. 

Very  few  moments’  consideration  were  sufficient  to  show 
me  that  pursuit  was  hopeless ; whatever  might  have  been 
Peter’s  performance  in  the  reign  of  “ Queen  Anne,”  he  had 
now  become  like  the  goose  so  pathetically  described  by  my 
friend  Lover,  rather  “ stiff  in  his  limbs,”  and  the  odds  were 
fearfully  against  his  overtaking  four  horses,  starting  fresh 
every  ten  miles,  not  to  mention  their  being  some  hours  in 
advance  already.  Having  declined  all  Mrs.  Herbert’s  many 
kind  offers  anent  food  and  rest,  I took  a last  lingering  look 
at  the  beautiful  picture,  which  still  held  its  place  in  the  room 
lately  mine,  and  hurried  from  a place  so  full  of  recollections ; 
and  notwithstanding  the  many  reasons  I had  for  self-gratu- 
lation,  every  object  around  and  about  filled  me  with  sorrow 
and  regret  for  hours  that  had  passed — never,  never  to  return. 

It  was  very  late  when  I reached  my  old  quarters  at  Kil- 
rush  ; Mrs.  Healy  fortunately  was  in  bed  asleep — fortunately, 
I say ; for  had  she  selected  that  occasion  to  vent  her  indig- 


HARR Y L ORREQUER . 


89 

nation  for  my  long  absence,  I greatly  fear  that,  in  my  then 
temper,  1 should  have  exhibited  but  little  of  that  Job-like 
endurance  for  which  I was  once  esteemed  : I entered  my  little 
mean-looking  parlor,  with  its  three  chairs  and  lame  table, 
and,  as  I flung  myself  upon  the  wretched  substitute  for  a 
sofa,  and  thought  upon  the  varied  events  which  a few  weeks 
had  brought  about,  it  required  the  aid  of  her  ladyship’s  letter, 
which  I opened  before  me,  to  assure  me  I was  not  dreaming. 

The  entire  of  that  night  I could  not  sleep ; my  destiny 
seemed  upon  its  balance ; and  whether  the  scale  inclined  to 
this  side  or  that,  good  or  evil' fortune  seemed  to  betide  me. 
How  many  were  my  plans  and  resolutions,  and  how  often 
abandoned  ; again  to  be  pondered  over,  and  once  more  given 
up.  The  gray  dawn  of  the  morning  was  already  breaking, 
and  found  me  still  doubting  and  uncertain.  At  last  the  die 
was  thrown  ; I determined  at  once  to  apply  for  leave  to  my 
commanding  officer  (which  he  could,  if  lie  pleased,  give  me, 
without  any  application  to  the  Horse  Guards),  set  out  for 
Elton,  tell  Sir  Guy  my  whole  adventure,  and  endeavor,  by  a 
more  moving  love  story  than  ever  graced  even  the  Minerva 
Press,  to  induce  him  to  make  some  settlement  on  me,  and  use 
his  influence  with  Lord  Callonby  in  my  behalf ; this  done, 
set  out  for  London,  and  then — and  then — what  then  ? — then 
for  the  Morning  Post — “ Cadeau  de  noces  ” — “ happy  couple  ” 
■ — “ Lord  Callonby’s  seat  in  Hampshire,”  etc.*  etc. 

“ You  wished  to  be  called  at  five,  sir,”  said  Stubbes. 

“ Yes  ; is  it  five  o’clock  ? ” 

“ No,  sir  ; but  I heard  you  call  out  something  about  ‘ four 
horses,’  and  I thought  you  might  be  hurried,  so  I came  a 
little  earlier.” 

“ Quite  right,  Stubbes,  let  me  have  my  breakfast  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  see  that  chestnut  horse  I brought  here  last 
night,  fed.” 

“ And  now  for  it,”  said  I,  after  writing  a hurried  note  to 
Curzon,  requesting  him  to  take  command  of  my  parly  at 
Kilrush,  till  he  heard  from  me,  and  sending  my  kindest  re- 
membrance to  my  three  friends  ; I dispatched  the  epistle  by 
my  servant  on  Peter,  while  I hastened  to  secure  a place  in 
the  mail  for  Ennis,  on  the  box-seat  of  which  let  my  kind 
reader  suppose  me  seated,  as  wrapping  my  box-coat  around 
me,  I lit  my  cigar  and  turned  my  eyes  toward  Limerick. 


9° 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CONGRATULATIONS— SICK  LEAVE — HOW  TO  PASS  THE  BOARD. 

I had  scarcely  seated  myself  at  breakfast  at  Swineburne’a 
hotel  in  Limerick,  when  the  waiter  presented  me  with  a letter. 
As  my  first  glance  at  the  address  showed  it  to  be  in  Colonel 
Carden’s  handwriting,  I felt  not  a little  alarmed  for  the  con- 
sequences of  the  rash  step  I had  taken  in  leaving  my  detach- 
ment ; and,  while  quickly  thronging  fancies  of  arrest  and 
court-martial  flitted  before  me,  I summoned  resolution  at  last 
to  break  the  seal,  and  read  as  follows : 

“ My  dear  Lorrequer,”  (“  dear  Lorrequer  ! ” dear  me, 
thought  I,  cool  certainly,  from  one  I have  ever  regarded  as 
an  open  enemy) — “ My  dea,r  Lorrequer,  I have  just  accident- 
ally heard  of  your  arrival  here,  and  hasten  to  inform  you, 
that,  as  it  may  not  be  impossible  your  reasons  for  so  abruptly 
leaving  your  detachment  are  known  to  me,  I shall  not 
visit  your  breach  of  discipline  very  heavily.  My  old  and 
worthy  friend,  Lord  Callonby,  who  passed  through  here  yes- 
terday, has  so  warmly  interested  himself  in  your  behalf,  that 
I feel  disposed  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  serve  you ; indepen- 
dently of  my  desire  to  do  so  on  your  own  account.  Come 
over  here  then,  as  soon  as  possible,  and  let  us  talk  over  your 
plans  together. 

“ Believe  me  most  truly  yours, 

“ Henry  Carden. 

“Barracks,  io  o’clock.” 


However  mysterious  and  difficult  to  unravel,  have  been 
some  of  the  circumstances  narrated  in  these  “Confessions,” 
I do  not  scruple  to  avow  that  the  preceding  letter  was  to 
me  by  far  the  most  inexplicable  piece  of  fortune  I had 
hitherto  met  with.  That  Lord  Callonby  should  have  con- 
verted one  whom  I believed  an  implacable  foe  into  a most 
obliging  friend,  was  intelligible  enough,  seeing  that  his  lord- 
ship  had  through  life  been  the  patron  of  the  colonel ; but 


HARRY  LORREQUER, 


91 


why  he  had  so  done,  and  what  communioations  he  could  pos- 
sibly have  made  with  regard  to  me,  that  Colonel  Carden 
should  speak  of  “ my  plans  ” and  proffer  assistance  in  them, 
was  a perfect  riddle ; and  the  only  solution,  one  so  ridicu- 
lously flattering  that  I dared  not  think  of  it.  I read  and  re- 
read the  note ; misplaced  the  stops,  canvassed  every  expres- 
sion ; did  all  to  detect  a meaning  different  from  the  obvious 
one,  fearful  of  a self-deception  where  so  much  was  at  stake. 
Yet  there  it  stood  forth,  a plain  straightforward  proffer  of 
services,  for  some  object  evidently  known  to  the  writer  ; and 
my  only  conclusion,  from  all,  was  this,  that  “ my  Lord  Cal- 
lonby  was  the  gem  of  his  order,  and  had  a most  remarkable 
talent  for  selecting  a son-in-law.5’ 

I fell  into  a deep  reverie  upon  my  past  life,  and  the  pros- 
pects which  I now  felt  were  opening  before  me.  Nothing 
seemed  extravagant  to  hopes  so  well  founded — to  expecta- 
tions so  brilliant — and,  in  my  mind’s  eye  I beheld  myself  at 
one  moment  leading  my  young  and  beautiful  bride  through 
the  crowded  salons  of  Devonshire  House ; and  at  the  next 
I was  contemplating  the  excellence  and  perfection  of  my 
stud  arrangement  at  Melton,  for  I resolved  not  to  give  up 
hunting.  While  in  this  pleasurable  exercise  of  my  fancy,  I 
was  removing  from  before  me  some  of  the  breakfast  equi- 
page, or,  as  I then  believed  it,  breaking  the  trees  into  better 
groups  upon  my  lawn,  I was  once  more  brought  to  the  world 
and  in  dull  reality,  by  the  following  passage,  which  my  eye 
fell  upon  in  the  newspaper  before  me — “ We  understand 
that  the  4-th  are  daily  expecting  the  route  for  Cork,  from 
whence  they  are  to  sail,  early  in  the  ensuing  month,  for  Hali- 
fax, to  relieve  the  88th.”  While  it  did  not  take  a moment's 
consideration  to  show  me  that  though  the  regiment  there 
mentioned  was  the  one  I belonged  to,  I could  have  no  pos- 
sible interest  in  the  announcement ; it  never  coming  into  my 
calculation  that  /should  submit  to  such  expatriation  ; yet  it 
gave  me  a salutary  warning  that  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost 
in  making  my  application  for  leave,  which,  once  obtained,  I 
should  have  ample  time  to  manage  an  exchange  into  another 
corps.  The  wonderful  revolution  a few  days  had  effected 
in  all  my  tastes  and  desires,  did  not  escape  me  at  this  mo- 
ment. But  a week  or  two  before  and  I should  have  regarded 
an  order  for  foreign  service  as  anything  rather  than  unpleas- 
ant— now  the  thought  was  insupportable.  Then  there  would 
have  been  some  charm  to  me  in  the  very  novelty  of  the  locale, 


HARR  V LOI^REQV'ER. 


92 

and  the  indulgence  of  that  vagrant  spirit  I have  ever  pd& 
sessed  ; for,  like  Justice  Woodcock,  44  I certainly  should  have 
been  a vagabond  if  Providence  had  not  made  me  a justice  of 
the  peace  ” — now,  I could  not  even  contemplate  the  thing 
as  possible  ; and  would  have  actually  refused  the  * command 
of  a regiment,  if  the  condition  of  its  acceptance  were  to 
sail  for  the  colonies. 

Besides,  I tried — and  how  ingenious  is  self-deception — I 
tried  to  find  arguments  in  support  of  my  determination  totally 
different  from  the  reasons  which  governed  me.  I affected  to 
fear  climate,  and  to  dread  the  effect  of  the  tropics  upon 
my  health.  It  may  do  very  well,  thought  I,  for  men  totally 
destitute  of  better  prospects ; with  neither  talent,  influence, 
or  powerful  connection,  to  roast  their  cheeks  at  Sierra  Leone, 
or  suck  a sugar  cane  at  St.  Lucia.  But  that  you,  Harry 
Lorrequer,  should  waste  your  sweetness  upon  planters’  daugh- 
ters— that  have  only  to  be  known  to  have  the  world  at  your 
feet!  The  thing  is  absurd,  and  not  to  be  thought  of!  Yes, 
said  I,  half  aloud — we  read  in  the  army  lists  that  Major  A.  is 
appointed  to  the  50th,  and  Captain  B.  to  the  12th  ; but  how 
much  more  near  the  truth  would  it  be  to  say — 44  That  His 
Majesty,  in  consideration  of  the  distinguished  services  of  the 

one,  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  appoint  him  to a case 

of  blue  and  collapsed  cholera,  in  India;  and  also  for  the 
bravery  and  gallant  conduct  of  the  other,  in  his  late  affair  with 
the  4 How-dow-dallah  Indians,’  has  promoted  him  to  the 

yellow  fever  now  devastating  and  desolating  Jamaica.” 

How  far  my  zeal  for  the  service  might  have  carried  me  on  this 
point  I know  not,  for  I was  speedily  aroused  from  my  musings 
by  the  loud  tramp  of  feet  upon  the  stairs,  and  the  sound  of 
many  well-known  voices  of  my  brother  officers,  who  were 
coming  to  visit  me. 

44  So,  Harry,  my  boy,”  said  the  fat  major,  as  he  entered,  44  is 
it  true  we  are  not  to  have  the  pleasure  of  your  company  to 
Jamaica  this  time  ? ” 

44  He  prefers  a pale  face,  it  seems,  to  a black  one  ; and  cer- 
tainly, with  thirty  thousand  in  the  same  scale,  the  taste  is  ex- 
cusable.” 

44  But,  Lorrequer,”  said  a third,  44  we  heard  that  you  had 
canvassed  the  county  on  the  Callonby  interest.  Why,  man, 
where  do  you  intend  to  pull  up  ? ” 

44  As  for  me,”  lisped  a large-eyed,  white-haired  ensign  of 
three  months’  standing,  44 1 think  it  devilish  hard,  old  Carden 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER . 93 

didn’t  send  me  down  there  too,  for  I hear  there  are  two  girls 
in  the  family.  Eh,  Lorrequer  ? ” 

Having,  with  all  that  peculiar  bashfulness  such  occasions 
are  sure  to  elicit,  disclaimed  the  happiness  my  friends  so 
clearly  ascribed  to  me,  I yet  pretty  plainly  let  it  be  understood 
that  the  more  brilliant  they  supposed  my  present  prospects 
to  be,  the  more  near  were  they  to  estimate  them  justly.  One 
thing  certainly  gratified  me  throughout.  All  seemed  rejoiced 
at  my  good  fortune,  and  even  the  old  Scotch  paymaster  made 
no  more  caustic  remark  than  that  he  “ wadna  wonder  if  the 
chiel’s  black  whiskers  wad  get  him  made  governor  of  Stirling 
Castle  before  he’d  dee.” 

Should  any  of  my  most  patient  listeners  to  these,  my  humble 
Confessions,  wonder  either  here,  or  elsewhere,  upon  whatever 
slight  foundation  I built  these  my  “ Chateaux  en  Espagne,”  I 
have  only  one  answer — “ that  from  my  boyhood  I have  had  a 
taste  for  florid  architecture,  and  would  rather  put  up  with  any 
inconvenience  of  ground  than  not  build  at  all.” 

As  it  was  growing  late,  I hurriedly  bade  adieu  to  my  friends, 
and  hastened  to  Colonel  Carden’s  quarters,  where  I found  him 
waiting  for  me,  in  company  with  my  old  friend,  Fitzgerald, 
our  regimental  surgeon.  Our  first  greetings  over,  the  colonel 
drew  me  aside  into  a window,  and  said  that,  from  certain  ex- 
pressions Lord  Callonby  had  made  use  of — certain  hints  he 
had  dropped — he  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  delicate  position 
in  which  I stood  with  respect  to  his  lordship’s  family.  “ In 
fact,  my  dear  Lorrequer,”  he  continued,  “ without  wishing  in 
the  least  to  obtrude  myself  upon  your  confidence,  I must  yet 
be  permitted  to  say,  you  are  the  luckiest  fellow  in  Europe,  and 
I most  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  the  prospect  before  you.” 

“ But,  my  dear  colonel,  I assure  you ” 

“ Well,  well,  there — not  a word  more  ; don’t  blush  now. 
I know  there  is  always  a kind  of  secrecy  thought  necessary 
on  these  occasions,  for  the  sake  of  other  parties  ; so  let  us 
pass  to  your  plans.  From  what  I have  collected,  you  have 
not  yet  proposed  formally.  But,  of  course,  you  desire  a leave. 
You’ll  not  quit  the  army,  I trust;  no  necessity  for  that;  such 
influence  as  yours  can  always  appoint  you  to  an  unattached 
commission.” 

“ Once  more,  let  me  protest,  sir,  that  though  for  certain 
reasons  most  desirous  to  obtain  a leave  of  absence,  I have  not 
the  most  remote ” 

That’s  right,  quite  right ; I am  sincerely  gratified  to  hea? 


94 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 


you  say  so,  and  so  will  be  Lord  Callonby ; for  he  likes  the 
service.” 

And  thus  was  my  last  effort  at  a disclaimer  cut  short  by  the 
loquacious  little  colonel,  who  regarded  my  unfinished  sentence 
as  a concurrence  with  his  own  opinion. 

“ Allah  il  Allah,”  thought  I,  “ it  is  my  Lord  Callonby’s  own 
plot ; and  his  friend  Colonel  Carden  aids  and  abets  him.” 

“ Now,  Lorrequer,”  resumed  the  colonel,  “ let  us  proceed. 
Yon  have,  of  course,  heard  that,  we  are  ordered  abroad,  mere 
Newspaper  report  for  the  present ; nevertheless,  it  is  extremely 
lifficult — almost  impossible,  without  a sick  certificate,  to 
>btain  a leave  sufficiently  long  for  your  purpose.” 

And  here  he  smirked,  and  I blushed,  salon  les  regies . 

“ A sick  certificate,”  said  I,  in  some  surprise. 

“ The  only  thing  for  you,”  said  Fitzgerald,  taking  a long 
pinch  of  snuff  ; “ and  I grieve  to  say  you  have  a most  villain- 
ous look  of  good  health  about  you.” 

“ I must  acknowledge  I have  seldom  felt  better.” 

“ So  much  tfte  worse — so  much  the  worse,”  said  Fitzgerald, 
despondingly.  “ Is  there  no  family  complaint ; no  respect- 
able heirloom  of  infirmity,  you  can  lay  claim  to  from  your 
kindred  ? ” 

“ None  that  I know  of,  unless  a very  active  performance 
on  the  several  occasions  of  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper, 
with  a tendency  toward  port,  and  an  inclination  to  sleep  ten 
in  every  twenty-four  hours,  be  a sign  of  sickness  ; these 
symptoms  I have  known  many  of  the  family  suffer  for  years, 
without  the  slightest  alleviation,  though,  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  they  occasionally  had  medical  advice.  ” 

Fitz  took  no  notice  of  my  sneer  at  the  faculty,  but  proceed- 
ed to  strike  my  chest  several  times  with  his  finger  tips. 
“ Try  a short  cough  now,  ” said  he.  “ Ah,  that  will  never 
do  ! ” 

“ Do  you  ever  flush  ? Before  dinner,  I mean  ? ” 

“ Occasionally,  when  I meet  with  a luncheon.” 

“ I’m  fairly  puzzled,”  said  poor  Fitz,  throwing  himself  into 
a chair  ; “ gout  is  a very  good  thing  ; but  then  ycu  see  you 
are  only  a sub,  and  it  is  clearly  against  the  articles  of  war  to 
have  it  before  being  a field  officer  at  least.  Apoplexy  is  the 
best  I can  do  for  you;  and,  to  say  the  truth,  any  one  who 
witnesses  your  performance  at  mess  may  put  faith  in  the  like- 
lihood of  it.  Do  you  think  you  could  get  up  a fit  for  the 
medical  board  ? ” said  Fitz,  gravely. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


95 


“Why,  if  absolutely  indispensable, ” said  I,  “and  with 
good  instruction — something  this  way.  Eh,  is  it  not  ? ” 

“ Nothing  of  the  kind  ; you  are  quite  wrong.” 

“ Is  there  not  always  a little  laughing  and  crying  ? ” said  I. 

* “ Oh,  no,  no  ; take  the  cue  from  the  paymaster  any  even- 
ing after  mess,  and  you’ll  make  no  mistake — very  florid 
about  the  cheeks,  rather  a lazy  look  in  one  eye,  the  other 
closed  up  entirely ; snore  a little  from  time  to  time,  and  don’t 
be  much  disposed  to  talk.” 

“ And  you  think  I may  pass  muster  in  this,  way  ? ” 

“ Indeed  you  may,  if  old  Camie,  the  inspector,  happens  to 
be  (what  he  is  not  often)  in  a good  humor.  But  I confess 
I’d  rather  you  were  really  ill,  for  we’ve  passed  a great 
number  of  counterfeits  latterly,  and  we  may  all  be  pulled  up 
ere  long.” 

“Not  the  less  grateful  for  your  kindness,”  said  I,  “but 
$till  I’d  rather  matters  stood  as  they  do.” 

Having  at  length  obtained  a very  formidable  statement  of 
my  “ case  ” from  the  doctor,  and  a strong  letter  from  the 
colonel,  deploring  the  temporary  loss  of  so  promising  a 
young  officer,  I committed  myself  and  my  portmanteau  to 
the  inside  of  his  Majesty’s  mail,  and  started  for  Dublin  with 
as  light  a heart  and  high  spirits  as  were  consistent  with  so 
much  delicacy  of  health,  and  the  directions' of  my  doctor. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  ROAD — TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES — A PACKET  ADVENT- 
^ URE. 

I shall  not  stop  now  to  narrate  the  particulars  of  my 
visit  to  the  worthies  of  the  medical  board;  the  rather,  as 
some  of  my  “ confessions  to  come  ” have  reference  to  Dub- 
lin, and  many  of  those  that  dwell  therein.  I shall  therefore 
content  myself  here  with  stating  that  without  any  difficulty  I 
obtained  a six  months’  leave,  and  having  received  much 
advice  and  more  sympathy  from  many  members  of  that  body, 
took  a respectful  leave  of  them,  and  adjourned  to  Bilton’s, 
where  I had  ordered  dinner,  and  (as  I was  advised  to  live 
low)  a bottle  of  Sneyd’s  claret.  My  hours  in  Dublin  were 
numbered  ; at  eight  o’clock  on  the  evening  df  my  arrival  I 


Barr  y l orrrq uer. 


96 

hastened  to  the  Pigeon  House  pier  to  take  my  berth  in  the 
packet  for  Liverpool ; and  here,  gentle  reader,  let  me  implore 
you,  if  you  have  bowels  of  compassion,  to  commiserate  the 
condition  of  a sorry  mortal  like  myself.  In  the  days  of  which 
I now  speak,  steam  packets  were  not — men  knew  not  then 
of  the  pleasure  of  going  to  a comfortable  bed  in  Kingston 
harbor  and  waking  on  the  morning  after  in  the  Clarence 
dock  at  Liverpool,  with  only  the  addition  of  a little  sharper 
appetite  for  breakfast,  before  they  set  out  on  an  excursion 
of  forty  miles  per  hour  through  the  air. 

In  the  time  I have  now  to  commemorate,  the  intercourse 
between  the  two  countries  was  maintained  by  two  sailing 
vessels  of  small  tonnage,  and  still  scantier  accommodations. 
Of  the  one  now  in  question,  I well  recollect  the  name — she 
was  called  the  “ Alert,”  and  certainly  a more  unfortunate 
misnomer  could  scarcely  be  conceived.  Well,  there  was  no 
choice,  so  I took  my  place  upon  the  crowded  deck  of  the 
little  craft,  and  in  a drizzling  shower  of  chilly  rain,  and  amid 
more  noise  and  confusion  and  bustle  than  would  prelude 
the  launch  of  a line-of-battle  ship,  we  “ sidled,”  goose- 
fashion,  from  the  shore  and  began  our  voyage  towards 
England. 

It  is  not  my  intention,  in  the  present  state  of  “ my  Confes- 
sions,” to  delay  on  the  road  toward  an  event  which  influenced 
so  powerfully,  and  so  permanently,  my  after  life ; yet  I can- 
not refrain  from  chronicling  a slight  incident  which  occurred 
on  board  the  packet,  and  which  I have  no  doubt  may  be 
remembered  by  some  of  those  who  throw  their  eyes  on  these 
pages. 

One  of  my  fellow-passengers  was  a gentleman  holding  a 
high  official  appointment  in  the  viceregal  court,  either  comp- 
troller of  the  household,  master  of  the  horse,  or  something 
else  equally  magnificent ; however,  whatever  the  nature  of 
the  situation,  one  thing  is  certain — one  possessed  of  more  court- 
ly manners,  and  more  polished  address,  cannot  be  conceived, 
to  which  he  added  all  the  attractions  of  a very  handsome 
person  and  a most  prepossessing  countenance.  The  only 
thing  the  most  scrupulous  critic  could  possibly  detect  as 
faulty  in  his  whole  air  and  bearing  was  a certain  ultra  refine- 
ment and  fastidiousness,  which  in  a man  of  acknowledged 
family  and  connections  was  somewhat  unaccountable,  and 
certainly  unnecessary.  The  fastidiousness  I speak  of  extend- 
ed to  everything  round  and  about  him  ; he  never  eat  of  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


9? 


wrong  dish,  nor  spoke  to  the  wrong  man  in  his  life,  and  that 
very  consciousness  gave  him  a kind  of  horror  of  chance 
acquaintances,  which  made  him  shrink  within  himself  from 
persons  in  every  respect  his  equals.  Those  who  knew  Sir 
Stewart  Moore  will  know*  I do  not  exaggerate  in  either  my 
praise  or  censure,  and  to  those  who  have  not  had  that 
pleasure,  I have  only  to  say  theirs  was  the  loss,  and  they 
must  take  my  word  for  the  facts. 

The  very  antithesis  to  the  person  just  mentioned  was 
another  passenger  then  on  board.  She — for  even  in  sex 
they  jwere  different — she  was  a short,  squat,  red-faced,  vulgar- 
looking woman,  of  about  fifty,  possessed  of  a most  garrulous 
tendency,  and  talking  indiscriminately  with  every  one  about 
her,  careless  what  reception  her  address  met  with,  and  quite 
indifferent  to  the  many  rebuffs  she  momentarily  encountered. 
To  me — by  what  impulse  driven  Heaven  knows — this  amor- 
phous piece  of  womanhood  seemed  determined  to  attach  her- 
self. Whether  in  the  smoky  and  most  impenetrable  recesses 
of  the  cabin,  or  braving  the  cold  and  penetrating  rain  upon 
deck,  it  mattered  not,  she  was  ever  at  my  side,  and  not  only 
martyring  me  by  the  insufferable  annoyance  of  her  vulgar 
loquacity,  but  actually,  from  the  appearance  of  acquaint- 
anceship such  constant  association  gave  rise  to,  frightening 
any  one  else  from  conversing  with  me,  and  rendering  me, 
ere  many  hours,  a perfect  Pariah  among  the  passengers.  By 
no  one  were  we — for,  alas,  we  had  become  Siamese — so 
thoroughly  dreaded  as  by  the  refined  baronet  I have  men- 
tioned ; he  appeared  to  shrink  from  our  very  approach,  and 
avoided  us  as  though  we  had  the  plagues  of  Egypt  about  us. 
I saw  this — I felt  it  deeply,  and  as  deeply  and  resolutely  I 
vowed  to  be  revenged,  and  the  time  was  not  long  distant 
in  affording  me  the  opportunity. 

The  interesting  Mrs.  Mulrooney,  for  such  was  my  fair  com- 
panion called,  was  on  the  present  occasion  making  her  debut 
on  what  she  was  pleased  to  call  the  “says;”  she  was  pro- 
ceeding to  the  Liverpool  market  as  proprietor  and  super- 
cargo over  some  legion  of  swine  that  occupied  the  hold  of  the 
vessel,  and  whose  mellifluous  tones  were  occasionally  heard 
in  all  parts  of  the  ship.  Having  informed  me  on  these,  to- 
gether with  some  circumstances  of  her  birth  and  parentage, 
she  proceeded  to  narrate  some  of  the  cautions  given  by  her 
friends  as  to  her  safety  when  making  such  a long  voyage, 
and  also  to  detail  some  of  the  antiseptics  to  that  dreadful 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


98 

scourge,  sea-sickness,  in  the  fear  and  terror  of  which  she  had 
come  on  board  and  seemed  every  hour  to  be  increasing  in 
alarm  about.” 

“ Do  you  think,  then,  sir,  that  pork  is  no  good  agin  the 
sickness  ? Mickey,  that's  my  husband,  sir,  says  it’s  the  only 
thing  in  life  for  it,  av  it’s  toasted.” 

“ Not  the  least  use,  I assure  you.” 

“ Nor  sperits  and  wather  ? ” 

“ Worse  and  worse,  ma’am.” 

“ Oh,  thin,  may  be  oaten  mail  tay  would  do  ? it’s  a beauti- 
ful thing  for  the  stomick,  anyhow.” 

“ Rank  poison  on  the  present  occasion,  believe  me.” 

“ Oh,  then,  Blessed  Mary,  what  am  I to  do — what  is  to 
become  of  me  ? ” 

“ Go  down  at  once  to  your  berth,  ma’am  ; lie  still  and  with- 
out speaking  till  we  come  in  sight  of  land ; or,”  and  here  a 
bright  thought  seized  me,  “ if  you  really  feel  very  ill,  call  for 
that  man  there  with  the  fur  collar  on  his  coat ; he  can  give 
you  the  only  thing  I ever  knew  of  any  efficacy;  he’s  the 
steward,  ma’am ; Stewart  Moore ; but  you  must  be  on  your 
guard,  too,  as  you  are  a stranger,  for  he  is  a conceited  fellow, 
and  has  saved  a trifle,  and  sets  up  for  a half  gentleman  ; so 
don’t  be  surprised  at  his  manner,  though,  after  all,  you  may 
find  him  very  different ; some  people,  I’ve  heard,  think  him 
extremely  civil.” 

“ And  he  has  a cure,  ye  say  ? ” 

“ The  only  one  I ever  heard  of ; it  is  a little  cordial  of 
which  you  take,  I don’t  know  how  much,  every  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes.” 

“ And  the  naygur  doesn’t  let  the  saycret  out,  bad  manners 
to  him  ! ” 

“ No,  ma’am ; he  has  refused  every  offer  on  the  subject.” 

“ May  I be  so  bowld  as  to  ax  his  name  again  ? ” 

“ Stewart  Moore,  ma’am.  Moore  is  the  name,  but  people 
always  call  him  Stewart  Moore ; just  say  that  in  a loud,  clear 
voice,  and  you’ll  soon  have  himi” 

With  the  most  profuse  protestations  of  gratitude  and  prom- 
ises of  pork  “ a discretion ,”  if  I ever  sojourned  at  Ballin- 
asloe,  my  fair  friend  proceeded  to  follow  my  advice,  and  de- 
scended to  the  cabin. 

Some  hours  after,  I also  betook  myself  to  my  rest,  from 
which,  however,  toward  midnight,  I was  awakened  by  the 
heavy  working  and  pitching  of  the  little  vessel,  as  she 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


99 


labored  in  a rough  sea.  As  I looked  forth  from  my  narrow 
crib,  a more  woe-begone  picture  can  scarcely  be  imagined 
than  that  before  me.  Here  and  there  through  the  gloomy 
cabin  lay  the  victims  of  the  fell  malady,  in  every  stage  of 
suffering,  and  in  every  attitude  of  misery.  Their  cries  and 
lamentings  mingled  with  the  creaking  of  the  bulk-heads  and 
the  jarring  twang  of  the  dirty  lamp,  whose  irregular  swing 
told  plainly  how  oscillatory  was  our  present  motion.  I 
turned  from  the  unpleasant  sight  and  was  about  again  to 
address  myself  to  slumber  with  what  success  I might,  when  I 
started  at  the  sound  of  a voice  in  the  very  berth  next  to  me 
— whose  tones,  once  heard,  there  was  no  forgetting.  The 
words  ran  as  nearly  as  I can  recollect  thus  : 

“ Oh,  then,  bad  luck  to  ye  for  pigs,  that  ever  brought  me 
into  the  like  of  this.  Oh,  Lord,  there  it  is  again.”  And  here 
a slight  interruption  to  eloquence  took  place,  during  which  I 
was  enabled  to  reflect  upon  the  author  of  the  complaint, 
who,  I need  not  say,  was  Mrs.  Mulrooney. 

“ I think  a little  tay  would  settle  my  stomach,  if  I only 
could  get  it ; but  what’s  the  use  of  talking  in  this  horrid 
place  ? They  never  mind  me  no  more  than  if  I was  a pig. 
Steward,  steward — oh,  then,  it’s  wishing  you  well  I am 
for  a steward.  Steward,  I say,”  and  this  she  really  did 
say,  with  an  energy  of  voice  and  manner  that  startled  more 
than  one  sleeper.  “ Oh,  you’re  coming  at  last,  steward.” 

“ Ma’am,”  said  a little  dapper  and  dirty  personage,  in  a 
blue  jacket,  with  a greasy  napkin  negligently  thrown  over 
one  arm,  “ ex  officio ,”  “ ma’am,  did  you  call  ? ” 

“ Call,  is  it  call?  No,  but  I am  roaring  for  you  this  half- 
hour.  Come  here.  Have  you  any  of  the  cordial  dhrops 
agin  the  sickness  ? — you  know  what  I mean.” 

“ Is  it  brandy,  ma’am  ? ” 

“ No,  it  isn’t  brandy.” 

“ We  have  got  gin,  ma’am,  and  bottled  porter — cider, 
ma’am,  if  you  like.” 

“ Agh,  no  ! sure  I want  the  dhrops  agin  the  sickness.” 

“ Don’t  know,  indeed,  ma’am.” 

“ Ah,  you  stupid  creature  ! maybe  you’re  not  the  real  stew- 
ard. What’s  your  name?  ” 

“ Smith,  ma’am.”' 

“ Ah,  I thought  so  ; go  away,  man,  go  away.” 

This  injunction,  given  in  a diminuendo  cadence,  was 
quickly  obeyed,  and  all  was  silence  for  a moment  or  two* 


too 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


Once  more  was  I dropping  asleep  when  the  same  voice  as 
before  burst  out  with : 

“ Am  I to  die  here  like  a haythen,  and  nobody  to  come 
near  me  ? Steward,  steward,  steward  Moore,  I say.” 

“ Who  calls  me  ? ” said  a deep  sonorous  voice  from  the 
opposite  side  of  the  cabin,  while  at  the  same  instant  a tall 
green  silk  night-cap,  surmounting  a very  aristocratic-looking 
forehead,  appeared  between  the  curtains  of  the  opposite 
berth. 

“ Steward  Moore,”  said  the  lady  again,  with  her  eyes 
straining  in  the  direction  of  the  door  by  which  she  expected 
him  to  enter. 

“ This  is  most  strange,”  muttered  the  baronet,  half  aloud. 
“ Why,  madam,  you  are  calling  me  ! ” 

“ And  if  I am,”  said  Mrs.  Mulrooney,  “ and  if  ye  heerd 
me,  have  ye  no  manners  to  answer  your  name,  eh  ? Are  ye 
steward  Moore  ? ” 

“ Upon  my  soul,  ma’am,  I thought  so  last  night  when 
I came  on  board,  but  you  really  have  contrived  to  make  me 
doubt  my  own  identity.” 

“ And  is  it  there  ye’re  lying,  on  the  broad  of  yer  back,  and 
me  as  sick  as  a dog  foment  ye  ? ” 

“ I concede,  ma’am,  the  fact ; the  position  is  a most  irk- 
some one  on  every  account.” 

“ Then  why  don’t  ye  come  over  to  me  ? ” and  this  Mrs. 
Mulrooney  said  with  a voice  of  something  like  tenderness — 
wishing  at  all  hazards  to  conciliate  so  important  a function- 
ary. 

“ Why,  really  you  are  the  most  incomprehensible  person  I 
ever  met.” 

“ I’m  what?  ” said  Mrs.  Mulrooney  ; her  blood  rushing  to 
her  face  and  temples  as  she  spoke — for  the  same  reason  as 
her  fair  towns-woman  is  reported  to  have  borne  with  stoical 
fortitude  every  harsh  epithet  of  the  language,  until  it  occurred 
to  her  opponent  to  tell  her  that  “ the  divil  a bit  better  she 
was  nor  a pronoun  ; ” so  Mrs.  Mulrooney,  taking  “ omne 
ignotum  pro  horribili became  perfectly  beside  herself  at 
the  unlucky  phrase.  “ I’m  what  ? repate  it  av  ye  dare,  and 
I’ll  tear  yer  eyes  out ! Ye  dirty  bla — guard,  to  be  lying  there 
at  yer  ease  under  the  blankets,  grinning  at  me.  What’s 
your  trade — answer  me  that — av  it  isn’t  to  wait  on  the  ladies, 
eh  ? ” 

-1  Qh?  the  woman'  must  be  mad  ! ” said  Sir  Stewart, 


HARR  Y LORREQUER.  101 

“ The  divil  a taste  mad,  my  dear — I’m  only  sick.  Now 
Just  come  over  to  me,  like  a decent  creature,  and  give  me 
the  dhrop  of  comfort  ye  have.  Come,  avick!  ” 

“ Go  over  to  you  ? ” 

“ Ay,  and  why  not  ? or  if  it’s  so  lazy  ye  are,  why,  then,  I’ll 
thry  and  cross  over  to  your  side.’’ 

These  words  being  accompanied  by  a certain  indication 
of  change  of  residence  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Mulrooney,  Sir 
Stewart  perceived  there  was  no  time  to  lose,,  and  springing 
from  his  berth,  he  rushed  half-dressed  through  the  cabin, 
and  up  the  companion-ladder,  just  as  Mrs.  Mulrooney  had 
protruded  a pair  of  enormous  legs  from  her  couch,  and 
hung  for  a moment  pendulous  before  she  dropped  upon  the 
floor,  and  followed  him  to  the  deck.  A tremendous  shout 
of  laughter  from  the  sailors  and  the  deck  passengers  pre- 
vented my  hearing  the  dialogue  which  ensued  ; nor  do  I 
yet  know  how  Mrs.  Mulrooney  learned  her  mistake.  Cer- 
tain it  is,  she  no  more  appeared  among  the  passengers  in  the 
cabin,  and  Sir  Stewart’s  manner  the  following  morning  at 
breakfast  amply  satisfied  me  that  I had  had  my  revenge. 


CHAPTER  X. 

UPSET MIND  AND  BODY. 

No  sooner  in  Liverpool,  than  I hastened  to  take  my  place 
in  the  earliest  conveyance  for  London.  At  that  time  the 
Umpire  Coach  was  the  perfection  of  fast  travelling ; and 
seated  behind  the  box,  enveloped  in  a sufficiency  of  broad- 
cloth, I turned  my  face  toward  town  with  as  much  anxiety 
and  as  ardent  expectations  as  most  of  those  about  me.  All 
went  on  in  the  regular  monotonous  routine  of  such  matters 
until  we  reached  Northampton,  passing  down  the  steep  street 
of  which  town  the  near  wheel-horse  stumbled  and  fell ; the 
coach,  after  a tremendous  roll  to  one  side,  toppled  over  on 
the  other,  and  with  a tremendous  crash,  and  sudden  shock, 
sent  all  the  outsiders,  myself  among  the  number,  flying 
through  the  air  like  sea-gulls.  As  for  me,  after  describing 
a very  respectable  parabole,  my  angle  of  incidence  landed 
me  in  a bonnet-maker’s  shop,  having  passed  through  a 
large  plate-glass  window,  and  destroyed  more  Leghorns  and 


102 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


Dunstables  than  a year’s  pay  would  recompense.  I have 
but  slight  recollection  of  the  details  of  that  occasion  until 
I found  myself  lying  in  a very  spacious  bed  at  the  George 
Inn,  having  been  bled  in  both  arms,  and  discovering  by 
the  multitude  of  bandages  in  which  I was  enveloped  that  at 
least  some  of  my  bones  were  broken  by  the  fall.  That  such 
fate  had  befallen  my  collar-bone  and  three  of  my  ribs  I 
soon  learned,  and  was  horror-struck  at  hearing  from  the 
surgeon  who  attended  me,  that  four  or  five  weeks  would  be 
the  very  earliest  period  I could  bear  removal  with  safety. 
Here,  then,  at  once  was  a large  deduction  from  my  six  months’ 
leave,  not  to  think  of  the  misery  that  awaited  me  for  such  a 
time,  confined  to  my  bed  in  an  inn,  without  books,  friends 
or  acquaintances.  However,  even  this  could  be  remedied 
by  patience,  and  summoning  up  all  I could  command,  I 
“ bided  my  time,”  but  not  before  I had  completed  a term  of 
two  months’  imprisonment,  and  had  become,  from  actual 
starvation,  something  very  like  a living  transparency. 

No  sooner,  however,  did  I feel  myself  once  more  on  the 
road,  than  my  spirits  rose,  and  I felt  myself  as  full  of  high 
hope  and  buoyant  expectancy  as  ever.  It  was  late  at  night 
when  I arrived  in  London.  I drove  to  a quiet  hotel  in  the 
west-end,  and  the  following  morning  proceeded  to  Portman 
Square,  bursting  with  impatience  to  see  my  friends  the  Cal- 
lonbys  and  recount  all  my  adventures — for  as  I was  too  ill  to 
write  from  Northampton,  and  did  not  wish  to  intrust  to  a 
stranger  the  office  of  communicating  with  them,  I judged 
that  they  must  be  exceedingly  uneasy  on  my  account,  and 
pictured  to  myself  the  thousand  emotions  my  appearance  so 
indicative  of  illness  would  give  rise  to  ; and  could  scarcely 
avoid  running  in  my  impatience  to  be  once  more  among 
them.  How  Lady  Jane  would  meet  me,  I thought  of  again 
and  again ; whether  the  same  cautious  reserve  awaited  me,  or 
whether  her  family’s  approval  would  have  wrought  a change 
in  her  reception  of  me,  I burned  to  ascertain.  As  my 
thoughts  ran  on  in  this  way,  I found  myself  at  the  door  ; but 
was  much  alarmed  to  perceive  that  the  closed  window 
shutters  and  dismantled  look  of  the  house  proclaimed  them 
from  home.  I rang  the  bell,  and  soon  learned  from  a servant, 
whose  face  I had  not  seen  before,  that  the  family  had  gone 
to  Paris  about  a month  before  with  the  intention  of  spending 
the  winter  there.  I need  not  say  how  grievously  this  piece 
of  intelligence  disappointed  me,  and  for  a minute  or  two 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


103 


I could  not  collect  my  thoughts.  At  last  the  servant 
said  : 

“ If  you  have  anything  very  particular,  sir,  that  my  lord’s 
lawyer  can  do,  I can  give  you  his  address.” 

“ No,  thank  you — nothing  ;”  at  the  same  time  I muttered 
to  myself,  “ I’ll  have  some  occupation  for  him  though,  ere 
long.  The  family  were  all  quite  well,  didn’t  you  say  ? ” 

“ Yes,  sir,  perfectly  well.  My  lord  has  only  a slight  cold.” 

“ Ah — yes — and  their  address  is  4 Meurice’s  very  well.” 

So  saying  I turned  from  the  door,  and  with  slower  steps 
than  I had  come,  returned  to  my  hotel. 

My  immediate  resolve  was  to  set  out  for  Paris  ; my  second 
was  to  visit  my  uncle,  Sir  Guy  Lorrequer,  first,  and  having 
explained  to  him  the  nature  of  my  position  and  the  advan- 
tageous prospects  before  me,  endeavor  to  induce  him  to 
make  some  settlements  on  Lady  Jane,  in  the  event  of  my 
obtaining  her  family’s  consent  to  our  marriage.  This,  from 
his  liking  great  people  very  much,  and  laying  great  stress 
upon  the  advantages  of  connection,  I looked  upon  as  a matter 
of  no  great  difficulty ; so  that,  although  my  hopes  of  happi- 
ness were  delayed  in  their  fulfillment,  I believed  they  were 
only  about  to  be  the  more  securely  realized.  The  same  day 
I set  out  for  Elton,  and  by  ten  o’clock  at  night  I reached 
my  uncle’s  house.  I found  the  old  gentleman  looking  just 
as  I had  left  him  three  years  before,  complaining  a little  of 
gout  in  the  left  foot — praising  his  old  specific,  port  wine — 
abusing  his  servants  for  robbing  him — and  drinking  the  Duke 
of  Wellington’s  health  every  night  after  supper  ; which  meal 
I had  much  pleasure  in  surprising  him  at  on  my  arrival — not 
having  eaten  since  my  departure  from  London. 

44  Well,  Harry,”  said  my  uncle,  when  the  servants  had  left 
the  room,  and  we  drew  over  the  spider-table  to  the  fire  to 
discuss  our  wine  with  comfort,  44  what  good  wind  has  blown 
you  down  to  me,  my  boy  ? for  it’s  odd  enough,  five  minutes 
before  I heard^the  wheels  on  the  gravel  I was  just- wishing 
some  good  fellow  would  join  me  at  the  grouse — and  you  see 
1 have  had  my  wish  ! The  old  story,  I suppose,  ‘out  of 
cash.’  Would  not  come  down  here  for  nothing — eh  ? Come, 
lad,  tell  the  truth  ; is  it  not  so  ? ” 

44  Why,  not  exactly,  sir  ; but  I really  had  rather  at  present 
talk  about  you,  than  about  my  own  matters,  which  we  can 
chat  over  to-morrow . How  do  you  get  on,  sir,  with  the  Scotch 
steward  ? ” 


104 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


“ He*s  a rogue,  sir — a cheat — a scoundrel ; but  it  is  the 
same  with  them  all ; and  your  cousin,  Harry — your  cousin, 
that  I have  reared  from  his  infancy  to  be  my  heir  (pleasant 
topic  for  me  !) — he  cares  no  more  for  me  than  the  rest  of 
them,  and  would  never  come  near  me  if  it  were  not  that, 
like  yourself,  he  was  hard  run  for  money  and  wanted  to 
wheedle  me  out  of  a hundred  or  two.” 

“ But  you  forget,  sir — I told  you  I have  not  come  with 
such  an  object.” 

“ We’ll  see  that — we’ll  see  that  in  the  morning,”  replied 
he,  with  an  incredulous  shake  of  the  head. 

“ But  Guy,  sir— what  has  Guy  done  ? ” 

“ What  has  he  not  done  ? No  sooner  did  he  join  that 
popinjay  set  of  fellows,  the  — th  hussars,  tl^an  he  turned  out 
what  he  calls  a four-in-hand  drag,  which  dragged  nine  hun- 
dred pounds  out  of  my  pocket — then  he  has  got  a yacht  at 
Cowes — a grouse  mountain  in  Scotland — and  has  actually 
given  Tattersall  an  unlimited  order  to  purchase  the  Wreek- 
ington  pack  of  harriers,  which  he  intends  to  keep  for  the  use 
of  the  corps.  In  a word,  there  is  not  an  amusement  of  that 
villainous  regiment,  not  a flask  of  champagne  drank  at  their 
mess,  I don’t  bear  my  share  in  the  cost  of  ; all  through  the 
kind  offices  of  your  worthy  cousin,  Guy  Lorrequer.” 

This  was  an  exceedingly  pleasant  expose  for  me,  to  hear  of 
my  cousin  indulged  in  every  excess  of  foolish  extravagance 
by  his  rich  uncle,  while  I,  the  son  of  an  elder  brother  who 
unfortunately  called  me  by  his  own  name,  Harry,  remained 
the  sub.  in  a marching  regiment,  with  not  three  hundred 
pounds  a year  above  my  pay,  and  whom  any  extravagance,  if 
such  had  been  proved  against  me,  wquld  have  deprived  of 
even  that  small  allowance.  My  uncle,  however,  did  not 
notice  the  chagrin  with  which  I heard  his  narrative,  but 
continued  to  detail  various  instances  of  wild  and  reckless 
expense  the  future  possessor  of  his  ample  property  had 
already  launched  into. 

Anxious  to  say  something  without  well  knowing  what,  I 
hinted  that  probably  my  good  cousin  would  reform  some  of 
these  days  and  marry. 

“ Marry,”  said  my  uncle ; “ yes,  that  I believe  is  the  best 
thing  we  can  do  with  him ; and  I hope  now  the  matter  is  in 
good  train — so  the  latest  accounts  say,  at  least.” 

“ Ah,  indeed,”  said  I,  endeavoring  to  take  an  interest  where 
I really  felt  none — for  my  cousin  and  I had  never  been  very 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*°5 

intimate  friends,  and  the  difference  in  our  fortunes  had  not, 
at  least  to  my  thinking,  been  compensated  by  any  advances 
which  he,  under  the  circumstances,  might  have  made  to  me. 

“ Why,  Harry,  did  you  not  hear  of  it  ? ” said  my  uncle. 

“ No — not  a word,  sir.” 

“ Very  strange,  indeed— a great  match,  Harry — a very  great 
match,  indeed.” 

“ Some  rich  banker’s  daughter,”  thought  I.  “ What  will 
he  say  when  he  hears  of  my  fortune  ? ” 

“ A very  fine  young  woman,  too,  I understand — quite  the 
belle  of  London — and  a splendid  property  left  by  an  aunt.” 

I was  bursting  to  tell  him  of  my  affair,  and  that  he  had 
another  nephew,  to  whom,  if  common  justice  were  rendered, 
his  fortune  was  as  certainly  made  for  life. 

“ Guy’s  business  happened  |his  way,”  continued  my  uncle, 
who  was  quite  engrossed  by  the  thought  of  his  favorite’s 
success.  “ The  father  of  the  young  lady  met  him  in  Ireland, 
or  Scotland,  or  some  such  place,  where  he  was  with  his  regi- 
ment— was  greatly  struck  with  his  manner  and  address — • 
found  him  out  to  be  my  nephew — asked  him  to  his  house — 
and,  in  fact,  almost  threw  this  lovely  girl  at  his  head  before 
they  were  two  months  acquainted.” 

“ As  nearly  as  possible  my  own  adventure,”  thought  I, 
laughing  to  myself. 

“ But  you  have  not  told  me  who  they  are,  sir,”  said  I,  dying 
to  ^ve  his  story  finished,  and  to  begin  mine. 

“ I’m  comimg  to  that — I’m  coming  to  that.  Guy  came 
down  here,  but  did  not  tell  me  one  word  of  his  having  ever 
met  the  family,  but  begged  of  me  to  give  him  an  introduction 
to  them,  as  they  were  in  Paris,  where  he  was  going  on  a short 
leave  ; and  the  first  thing  I heard  of  the  matter  was  a letter 
from  the  papa,  demanding  from  me  if  Guy  was  to  be  my 
heir,  and  asking  how  far  his  intentions  in  his  family  met 
with  my  approval.” 

“ Then  how  did  you  know,  sir,  that  they  were  previously 
known  to  each  other  ? ” 

“ The  family  lawyer  told  me  who  heard  it  all  talked 
over.  ” 

“ And  why,  then,  did  Guy  get  the  letter  of  introduction 
frdm  you  when  he  was  already  acquainted  with  them  ? ” 

“ I am  sure  I cannot  tell,  except  that  you  know  he  always 
does  everything  unlike  any  one  else,  and  to  be  sure  the  letter 
seems  to  have  excited  some  amusement.  I must  show  you 


io6 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER . 


his  answer  to  my  first  note  to  know  how  all  was  going  on ; 
for  I felt  very  anxious  about  matters,  when  I heard  from 
some  person  who  had  met  them,  that  Guy  was  everlastingly 
in  the  house,  and  that  Lord  Callonby  could  not  live  without 
him.” 

“ Lord  who,  sir  ? ” said  I,  in  a voice  that  made  the  qld 
man  upset  his  glass  and  spring  from  his  chair  in  horror. 

“ What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  the  boy  ? What  makes 
you  so  pale  ? ” 

“ Whose  name  did  you  say  at  that  moment,  sir  ? ” said  I, 
with  a slowness  of  speech  that  cost  me  agony. 

“ Lord  Callonby,  my  old  school  fellow  and  fag  at  Eton.” 

“ And  the  lady’s  name,  sir  ? ” said  I,  in  scarcely  an  audible 
whisper. 

“ I’m  sure  I forgot  her  name,  but  here’s  the  letter  from 
Guy,  and  I think  he  mentions  her  name  in  the  postscript.” 

I snatched  rudely  the  half-opened  letter  from  the  old  man, 
as  he  was  vainly  endeavoring  to  detect  the  place  he  wanted, 
and  read  as  follows  : 

“ My  adored  Jane  is  all  your  fondest  wishes  for  my  hap- 
piness could  picture,  and  longs  to  see  her  dear  uncle,  as  she 
already  calls  you  on  every  occasion.”  I read  no  more — • 
my  eyes  swam — the  paper,  the  candles  everything  before  me, 
was  misty  and  confused ; and  although  I heard  my  uncle’s 
voice  still  going  on,  I knew  nothing  of  what  he  said. 

For  some  time  my  mind  could  not  take  in  the  full  extent 
of  the  base  treachery  I had  met  with,  and  I sat  speechless 
and  stupefied.  By  degrees  my  faculties  became  clearer, 
and  with  one  glance  I read  the  whole  business,  from  my 
first  meeting  with  them  at  Kilrush  to  the  . present  moment. 
I saw  that  in  their  attentions  to  me,  they  thought  they  were 
winning  the  heir  of  Elton,  the  future  proprietor  of  fifteen 
thousand  per  annum.  From  this  tangled  web  of  heartless 
intrigue,  I turned  my  thoughts  to  Lady  Jane  herself.  How 
had  she  betrayed  me ! for  certainly  she  had  not  only  re- 
ceived, but  encouraged  my  addresses — and  so  soon  too. 
To  think  that  at  the  very  moment  when  my  own  precipitate 
haste  to  see  her  had  involved  me  in  a nearly  fatal  accident, 
she  was  actually  receiving  the  attentions  of  another  ! Oh,  it 
was  too,  too  bad. 

But  enough — even  now  I can  scarcely  dwell  upon  the 
memory  of  that  moment,  when  the  hopes  and  dreams  of 
many  a long  day  and  night  were  destined  to  be  thus  rudely 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


io? 

blighted.  I seized  the  first  opportunity  of  bidding  my  uncle 
good  nig^t ; and  having  promised  him  to  reveal  all  my  plans 
on  the  morrow,  hurried  to  my  room. 

My  plans  ! alas,  I had  none — that  one  fatal  paragraph  had 
scattered  them  to  the  winds ; and  I threw  myself  upon  my 
bed,  wretched  and  almost  heart-broken. 

I have  once  before  in  these  “ Confessions  ” claimed  to  my- 
self the  privilege  not  inconsistent  with  a full  disclosure  of 
the  memorabilia  of  my  life,  to  pass  slightly  over  those 
passages,  the  burden  of  which  was  unhappy,  and  whose 
memory  is  still  painful.  I must  now.  therefore,  claim  the 
“ benefit  of  this  act,”  and  beg  the  reader  to  let  me  pass 
from  this  sad  portion  of  my  history,  and  for  the  full  expres- 
sion of  my  mingled  rage,  contempt,  disappointment,  and 
sorrow,  let  me  beg  of  him  to  receive  instead,  what  a learned 
pope  once  gave  as  his  apology  for  not  reading  a rather 
polysyllabic  word  in  a Latin  letter — 

“ As  for  this,”  said  he,  looking  at  the  phrase  in  question, 
“ soit  qu'il  dit”  so  say  I.  And  now  en  route. 


CHAPTER  XI? 

CHELTENHAM — MATRIMONIAL  ADVENTURE — SHOWING  HOW  TO 

MAKE  LOVE  FOR  A FRIEND. 

S 

It  was  a cold  raw  evening  in  February  as  I sat  in  the 
coffee  room  of  the  Old  Plough  in  Cheltenham,  Lucullus  c. 
Lucullo — no  companion  save  my  half-finished  decanter  of 
port.  I had  drawn  my  chair  to  the  corner  of  the  ample 
fireplace,  and  in  a half  dreamy  state  was  reviewing  the  in- 
cidents of  my  early  life,  and  like  most  men  who,  however 
young,  have  still  to  lament  talents  misapplied,  opportunities 
neglected,  profitless  labor,  and  disastrous  idleness.  The 
dreary  aspect  of  the  large  and  ill-lighted  room — the  close- 
curtained  boxes — the  unsocial  look  of  everything  and  body 
about  Suited  the  habit  of  my  soul,  and  I was  on  the  verge  of 
becoming  excessively  sentimental — the  unbroken  silence, 
where  several  people  were  present,  had  also  its  effect  upon 
me,  and  I felt  oppressed  and  dejected.  So  sat  I for  an  hour  ; 
the  clock  over  the  mantel  ticked  sharply  on — the  old  man 
in  the  brown  surtout  had  turned  in  his  chair,  and  now  snored 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 


108 

louder — the  gentleman  who  read  the  Times  had  got  the 
Chronicle , and  I thought  I saw  him  nodding  over  the  adver- 
tisements. The  father  who,  with  a raw  son  of  about  nineteen, 
had  dined  at  six,  sat  still  and  motionless  opposite  his  off- 
spring, and  only  breaking  the  silence  around  by  the  grating 
of  the  decanter  as  he  posted  it  across  the  table.  The  only 
thing  denoting  active  existence,  was  a little  shrivelled  man, 
who,  with  spectacles  on  his  forehead,  and  hotel  slippers  on 
his  feet,  rapidly  walked  up  and  down,  occasionally  stopping 
at  his  table  to  sip  a little  weak-looking  negus,  which  was  his 
moderate  potation  for  two  hours.  I have  been  particular  in 
chronicling  these  few  and  apparently  trivial  circumstances, 
for  by  what  mere  trifles  are  our  greatest  and  most  important 
movements  induced — had  the  near  wheeler  of  the  Umpire 
been  only  safe  on  his  fore  legs,  and  while  I write  this  I 
might — but  let  me  continue.  The  gloom  and  melancholy 
which  beset  me  momentarily  increased.  But  three  months  be- 
fore, and  my  prospects  presented  everything  that  was  fairest 
and  brightest — now  all  the  future  was  dark  and  dismal.  Then 
my  best  friends  could  scarcely  avoid  envy  at  my  fortune — 
now  my  reverses  might  almost  excite  compassion  even  in  an 
enemy.  It  was  singular  enough,  and  I should  not  like  to 
acknowledge  it,  were  not  these  Confessions  in  their  very 
nature  intended  to  disclose  the  very  penetralia  of  my  heart ; 
but  singular  it  certainly  was — and  so  I have  always  felt  it 
since,  when  reflecting  on  it — that  although  much  and  warmly 
attached  to  Lady  Jane  Callonby,  and  feeling  most  acutely 
what  I must  call  her  abandonment  of  me,  yet,  the  most  con- 
stantly recurring  idea  of  my  mind  on  the  subject  was,  what 
will  the  mess  say — what  will  they  think  at  headquarters  ! — 
the  raillery,  the  jesting,  the  half-concealed  allusion,  the  tone 
of  assumed  compassion,  which  all  awaited  me,  as  each  of  my 
comrades  took  up  his  line  of  behavior  toward  me,  was,  after 
all,  the  most  difficult  thing  to  be  borne,  and  I absolutely 
dreaded  to  join  my  regiment,  more  thoroughly  than  did  ever 
schoolboy  to  return  to  his  labor  on  the  expiration  of  his  holi- 
days. I had  framed  to  myself  all  manner  of  ways  of  avoiding 
this  dread  event ; sometimes  I meditated  an  exchange  into 
an  African  corps — sometimes  to  leave  the  army  altogether. 
However  I turned  the  affair  over  in  my  mind — innumerable 
difficulties  presented  themselves,  and  I was  at  last  reduced  to 
that  standstill-point,  in  which,  after  continual  vacillation,  one 
only  waits  for  the  slightest  impulse  of  persuasion  tvom 


BARR  Y LORREQUER. 


109 

another,  to  adopt  any,  no  matter  what,  suggestion.  In  this 
enviable  frame  of  mind  I sat  sipping  wine,  and  watching 
the  clock  for  that  hour  at  which,  with  a safe  conscience,  I 
might  retire  to  my  bed,  when  the  waiter  roused  me  by 
demanding  if  my  name  was  Mr.  Lorrequer,  for  that  a 
gentleman  having  seen  my  card  in  the  bar,  had  been  making 
inquiry  for  the  owner  of  it  all  through  the  hotel. 

“ Yes,”  said  I,  “ such  is  my  name  ; but  I am  not  acquainted 
with  any  one  here,  that  I can  remember.” 

“The  gentleman  has  only  arrived  an  hour  since  by  the 
London  mail,  sir,  and  here  he  is.” 

At  this  moment,  a tall,  dashing-looking,  half-swaggering 
fellow,  in  a very  sufficient  envelope  of  box-coats,  entered  the 
coffee-room,  and  unwinding  a shawl  from  his  throat,  showed 
me  the  honest  and  manly  countenance  of  my  friend  Jack 
Waller,  of  the— th  dragoons,  with  whom  I had  served  in  the 
Peninsula. 

Five  minutes  sufficed  for  Jack  to  tell  me  that  he  was  come 
down  on  a bold  speculation  at  this  unseasonable  time  for 
Cheltenham  ; that  he  was  quite  sure  his  fortune  was  about  to 
be  made,  in  a few  weeks  at  furthest,  and  what  seemed  nearly 
as  engrossing  a topic — that  he  was  perfectly  famished,  and 
desired  a hot  supper,  “ de  suite.” 

Jack  having  dispatched  this  agreeable  meal  with  a trav- 
eller’s appetite,  proceeded  to  unfold  his  plans  to  me  as 
follows  : 

There  resided  somewhere  near  Cheltenham,  in  what  direction 
he  did  not  absolutely  know,  an  old  East  India  colonel,  who 
had  returned  from  a long  career  of  successful  staff-duties 
and  government  contracts,  with  the  moderate  fortune  of  two 
hundred  thousand.  He  possessed,  in  addition,  a son  and  a 
daughter ; the  former  being  a rake  and  a gambler,  he  had 
long  since  consigned  to  his  own  devices,  and  to  the  latter  he 
had  avowed  his  intention  of  leaving  all  his  wealth.  That 
she  was  beautiful  as  an  angel — highlv  accomplished — gifted 
— agreeable — and  all  that,  Jack,  who  nad  never  seen  her,  was 
firmly  convinced ; that  she  was  also  bent  resolutely  on 
marrying  him,  or  any  other  gentleman  whose  claims  were 
principally  the  want  of  money,  he  was  quite  ready  to  swear 
to  ; and,  in  fact,  so  assured  did  he  feel  that  “ the  whole  affair 
was  feasible  ” (I  use  his  own  expression),  that  he  had  man- 
aged a two  months’  leave,  and  was  come  down  express  to 
see,  make  love  to,  and  carry  her  off  at  once. 


IIO  HA RRY  L ORREQ ITER. 

“ But,”  said  I,  with  difficulty  interrupting  him,  “how  long, 
have  you  known  her  father  ? ” 

'4  Know  him  ? I never  saw  him.” 

“ Well,  that  certainly  is  cool : and  how  do  you  propose 
making  his  acquaintance.  Do  you  intend  to  make  him  a 
fiarticeps  criminis  in  the  elopement  of  his  own  daughter  for  a 
consideration  to  be  hereafter  paid  out  of  his  own  money  ? ” 

“ Now,  Harry,  you’ve  touched  upon  the  point  in  which, 
you  must  confess,  my  genius  always  stood  unrivalled — • 
acknowledge,  if  you  are  not  dead  to  gratitude — acknowledge 
how  often  should  you  have  gone  supperless  to  bed  in  our 
bivouacs  in  the  Peninsula,  had  it  not  been  for  the  ingenuity 
of  your  humble  servant — avow,  that  if  mutton  was  to  be  had, 
and  beef  to  be  purloined,  within  a circuit  of  twenty  miles 
round,  our  mess  certainly  kept  no  fast  days.  I need  not 
remind  you  of  the  cold  morning  on  the  retreat  from  Burgos, 
when  the  inexorable  Lake  brought  five  men  to  the  halberds 
for  stealing  turkeys,  that  at  the  same  moment  I was  engaged 
in  devising  an  oxtail  soup  from  a heifer  brought  to  our  tent 
in  jack  boots  the  evening  before,  to  escape  detection  by  her 
foot  tracks.” 

“ True,  Jack,  I never  questioned  your  Spartan  talent ; but 
this  affair,  time  considered,  does  appear  rather  difficult.” 

“ And  if  it  were  not,  should  I have  ever  engaged  in  it  ? 
No,  no,  Harry.  I put  all  proper  value  upon  the  pretty  girl, 
with  her  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  pin-money.  But  I 
honestly  own  to  you  the  intrigue,  the  scheme,  has  as  great  a 
charm  for  me  as  any  part  of  the  transaction.” 

“ Well,  Jack,  now  for  the  plan  ! ” 

c<  The  plan  ! oh,  the  plan.  Why,  I have  several ; but  since 
I have  seen  you,  and  talked  the  matter  over  with  you,  I 
have  begun  to  think  of  a new  mode  of  opening  the  trenches.” 

“ Why,  I don’t  see  how  I can  possibly  have  admitted  a 
single  new  ray  of  lig^ht  upon  the  affair.” 

“ There,  you  are  quite  wrong.  Just  hear  me  out  without 
interruption  and  I’ll  explain.  I’ll  first  discover  the  locale  of 
this  worthy  colonel — 4 Hydrabad  Cottage  ’ he  calls  it ; good, 
eh  ! — then  I shall  proceed  to  make  a tour  of  the  immediate 
vicinity,  and  either  be  taken  dangerously  ill  in  his  grounds, 
within  ten  yards  of  the  hall  door,  or  be  thrown  from  my  gig 
at  the  gate  of  his  avenue,  and  fracture  my  skull ; I don’t 
care  much  which.  Well,  then,  as  I learn  that  the  old  gentle- 
man is  the  most  kind,  hospitable  fellow  in  the  world,  he’ll 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


Ill 


admit  me  at  once  ; his  daughter  will  tend  my  sick  couch — 
nurse — read  to  me,  glorious  fun,  Harry.  I’ll  make  fierce 
love  to  her  ; and  now,  the  only  point  to  be  decided  is  whether, 
having  partaken  of  the  colonel’s  hospitality  so  freely,  I ought 
to  carry  her  off,  or  marry  her  with  papa’s  consent.  You  see 
there  is  much  to  be  said  for  either  line  of  proceeding.” 

44  I certainly  agree  with  you  there  ; but  since  you  seem  to 
see  your  way  so  clearly  up  to  that  point,  why,  I should  advise 
you  leaving  that  an  4 open  question/  as  the  ministers  say, 
when  they  are  hard  pressed  for  an  opinion.” 

44  Well,  Harry,  I consent ; it  shall  remain  so.  Now  for 
your  part,  for  I have  not  come  to  that.” 

44  Mine ! ” said  I in  amazement ; 44  why,  how  can  I possibly 
have  any  character  assigned  me  in  the  drama  ? ” 

44  I’ll  tell  you,  Harry,  you  shall  come  with  me  in  the  gig  in 
the  capacity  of  my  valet.” 

44  Your  what  ? ” said  I,  horror-struck  at  his  impudence. 

44  Come,  no  nonsense,  Harry,  you’ll  have  a glorious  time  of 
it— shall  choose  as  becoming  a livery  as  you  like — and 
you’ll  have  the  whole  female  world  below  stairs  dying  for  you  : 
and  all  I ask  for  such  an  opportunity  vouchsafed  to  you  is 
to  puff  me,  your  master,  in  every  possible  shape  and  form, 

. and  represent  me  as  the  most  liberal  fellow  in  the  world,  roll- 
ing in  wealth,  and  only  striving  to  get  rid  of  it.” 

The  unparalleled  effrontery  of  Master  Jack  in  assigning  to 
me  such  an  office,  absolutely  left  me  unable  to  reply  to  him ; 
while  he  continued  to  expatiate  upon  the  great  field  of  exer- 
tion thus  open  to  us  both.  At  last  it  occurred  to  me  to  ben- 
efit by  an  anecdote  of  a something  similar  arrangement  of 
capturing,  not  a young  lady,  but  a fortified  town,  by  retort- 
ing Jack’s  proposition. 

“Come,”  said  I,  44 1 agree  with  only  one  difference — I’ll  be 
the  master,  and  you  the  man  on  this  occasion.” 

To  my  utter  confusion,  and  without  a second’s  considera- 
tion, Waller  grasped  my  hand,  and  cried,  44  done.”  Of 
course  I laughed  heartily  at  the  utter  absurdity  of  the  whole 
scheme,  and  rallied  my  friend  on  his  prospects  for  Botany 
Bay  for  such  an  exploit,  never  contemplating  in  the  most  re- 
mote degree  the  commission  of  such  extravagance. 

Upon  this  Jack,  to  use  the  expressive  French  phrase,  44  pris 
la  parole,”  touching  with  a master-like  delicacy  on  my  late 
defeat  among  the  Callonbys  (which  up  to  this  instant  I be- 
lieved him  in  ignorance  of)  ; he  expatiated  upon  the  prospect 


1 12 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


of  my  repairing  that  misfortune,  and  obtaining  a fortune  con- 
siderably larger ; he  cautiously  abstained  from  mentioning  the 
personal  charms  of  the  young  lady,  supposing  from  my  lachry- 
mose look  that  my  heart  had  not  yet  recovered  the  shock  of 
Lady  Jane’s  perfidy,  and  rather  preferred  to  dwell  upon  the 
escape  such  a marriage  could  open  to  me  from  the  mockery 
of  the  mess-table,  the  jesting  of  my  brother  officers,  and  the 
life-long  raillery  of  the  service,  wherever  the  story  reached. 

The  fatal  facility  of  my  disposition  so  often  and  so  frankly 
chronicled  in  these  Confessions — the  openness  to  be  led 
whither  any  one  might  take  the  trouble  to  conduct  me — the 
easy  indifference  to  assume  any  character  which  might  be 
pressed  upon  me,  by  chance,  accident  . or  design,  assisted  by 
my  share  of  three  flasks  of  champagne,  induced  me  first  to 
listen — then  to  attend  to — soon  after  to  suggest — and  finally, 
absolutely  to  concur  in  and  agree  to  a proposal  which,  at  any 
other  moment,  I must  have  regarded  as  downright  insanity. 
As  the  clock  struck  two,  I had  just  affixed  my  name  to  an 
agreement,  for  Jack  Waller  had  so  much  of  method  in  his 
madness  that,  fearful  of  my  retracting  in  the  morning,  he  had 
committed  the  whole  to  writing,  which,  as  a specimen  of  Jack’s 
legal  talents,  I copy  from  the  original  document  now  in  my 
possession. 

“ The  Plough,  Cheltenham,  Tuesday  night  or  morning,  two 
o’clock — be  the  same  more  or  less.  I,  Harry  Lorrequer,  sub. 
in  his  Majesty’s  — th  regiment  of  foot,  on  the  one  part ; and  I, 
John  Waller,  commonly  called  Jack  Waller,  of  the  — th  light 
dragoons  on  the  other  ; hereby  promise  and  agree,  each  for 
himself,  and  not  one  for  the  other,  to  the  following  conditions, 
which  are  hereafter  subjoined,  to  wit,  the  aforesaid  Jack  Wal- 
ler is  to  serve,  obey,  and  humbly  follow  the  afore-mentioned 
Harry  Lorrequer,  for  the  space  of  one  month  of  four  weeks, 
conducting  himself  in  all  respects,  modes,  ways,  manners,  as 
his,  the  aforesaid  Lorrequer’s  own  man,  skip,  valet,  or  sauce- 
pan— duly  praising,  puffing,  and  lauding  the  aforesaid  Lorre- 
quer, and  in  every  way  facilitating  his  success  to  the  hand 
and  fortune  of ” 

“ Shall  we  put  in  her  name,  Harry,  here?”  said  Jack. 

“ I think  not ; we’ll  fill  it  up  in  pencil ; that  looks  very 
knowing.” 

“ at  the  end  of  which  period,  if  successful  in  his  suit, 

the  aforesaid  Harry  Lorrequer  is  to  render  to  the  aforesaid 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


n3 

Waller,  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  pounds  three  and  a half  per 
cent,  with  a faithful  discharge  in  writing  for  his  services  as 
may  be.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  and  which  heaven  forbid,  the 

aforesaid  Lorrequer  fail  in  obtaining  the  hand  of , that 

he  will  evacuate  the  territory  within  twelve  hours,  and  repair- 
ing to  a convenient  spot  selected  by  the  aforesaid  Waller,  then 
and  there  duly  invest  himself  with  a livery  chosen  by  the 
aforesaid  Waller ” 

“ You  know,  each  man  uses  his  choice  in  this  particular,” 
said  Tack. 

“ and  for  the  space  of  four  calendar  weeks,  be  unto  the 

aforesaid  Waller,  as  his  skip,  or  valet,  receiving,  in  the  event 
of  success,  the  alike  compensation  as  aforesaid,  each  promis- 
ing strictly  to  maintain  the  terms  of  this  agreement,  and 
binding,  by  a solemn  pledge,  to  divest  himself  of  every  right 
appertaining  to  his  former  condition,  for  the  space  of  time 
there  mentioned.” 

We  signed  and  sealed  it  formally,  and  finished  another 
flask  to  its  perfect  ratification.  This  done,  and  after  a hearty 
shake-hands,  we  parted  and  retired  for  the  night. 

The  first  thing  I saw  on  waking  the  following  morning  was 
Jack  Waller  standing  beside  my  bed,  evidently  in  excellent 
spirits  with  himself  and  all  the  world. 

“ Harry,  my  boy,  I have  done  it  gloriously,”  said  he,  “ I 
only  remembered  on  parting  with  you  last  night,  that  one  of 
the  most  marked  features  in  our  old  colonel’s  character  is  a 
certain  vague  idea,  he  has  somewhere  picked  up,  that  he  has 
been  at  some  very  remote  period  of  his  history  a most  dis- 
tinguished officer.  This  notion,  it  appears,  haunts  his  mind, 
and  he  absolutely  believes  he  has  been  in  every  engagement, 
from  the  Seven  Years’  War,  down  to  the  Battle  of  Waterloo. 
You  cannot  mention  a siege  he  did  not  lay  down  the  first 
parallel  for,  nor  a storming  party  where  he  did  not  lead  the 
forlorn  hope  ; and  there  is  not  a regiment  in  the  service,  from 
those  that  formed  the  fighting  brigade  of  Picton,  down  to  the 
London  train-bands,  with  which,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  he 
has  not  fought  and  bled.  This  mania  of  heroism  is  droll 
enough,  when  one  considers  that  the  sphere  of  his  action  was 
necessarily  so  limited  ; but  yet  we  have  every  reason  to  be 
thankful  for  the  peculiarity,  as  you’ll  say,  when  I inform  you 
that  this  morning  I dispatched  a hasty  messenger  to  his  villa, 
with  a most  polite  note,  setting  forth  that  as  Mr.  Lorrequer — 
ay,  Harry,  all  above  board — there  is  nothing  like  it — ‘ as  Mr. 

8 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


114 

Lorrequer,  of  the  — th,  was  collecting  for  publication,  such 
materials  as  might  serve  to  commemorate  the  distinguished 
achievements  of  British  officers,  who  have,  at  any  time,  been 
in  command — he  most  respectfully  requests  an  interview  with 
Colonel  Kamworth,  whose  distinguished  services,  on  many 
gallant  occasions,  have  called  forth  the  unqualified  approval  of 
his  Majesty’s  government.  Mr.  Lorrequer’s  stay  is  necessarily 
limited  to  a few  days,  as  he  proceeds  from  this  to  visit  Lord 
Anglesey ; and  therefore,  would  humbly  suggest  as  early  a 
meeting  as  may  suit  Colonel  K.’s  convenience.’  What  think 
you  now  ? Is  this  a master-stroke  or  not  ? ” 

“ Why,  certainly,  we  are  in  for  it  now,”  said  I,  drawing  a 
deep  sigh.  “ But  Jack,  what  is  all  this  ? Why,  you’re  in 
livery  already  ! ” 

I now,  for  the  first  time,  perceived  that  Waller  was  arrayed 
in  a very  decorous  suit  of  dark  gray,  with  cord  shorts  and 
boots,  and  looked  a very  knowing  style  of  servant  for  the 
side  of  a tilbury. 

“You  like  it,  do  you?  Well,  I should  have  preferred 
something  a little  more  showy  myself ; but  as  you  chose  this 
last  night,  I,  of  course,  gave  way,  and  after  all,  I believe 
you’re  right ; it  certainly  is  neat.” 

“ Did  I choose  it  last  night  ? I have  not  the  slightest 
recollection  of  it.” 

“ Yes,  you  were  most  particular  about  the  length  of  the 
waistcoat,  and  the  height  of  the  cockade,  and  you  see  I have 
followed  your  orders  tolerably  close  ; and  now,  adieu  to  sweet 
equality  for  the  season,  and  I am  your  most  obedient  serv- 
ant for  four  weeks — see  that  you  make  the  most  of  it.” 

While  we  were  talking,  the  waiter  entered  with  a notff 
addressed  to  me,  which  I rightly  conjectured  could  only 
come  from  Colonel  Kamworth.  It  ran  thus  : 

“ Colonel  Kamworth  feels  highly  flattered  by  the  polite 
attention  of  Mr.  Lorrequer,  and  will  esteem  it  a particular 
favor,  if  Mr.  L.  can  afford  him  the  few  days  his  stay  in  this 
part  of  the  country  will  permit,  by  spending  them  at  Hydra- 
bad  Cottage.  Any  information  as  to  Colonel  Kamworth’s 
services  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  he  need  not  say? 
is  entirely  at  Mr.  L.  ’s  disposal. 

“ Colonel  K.  dines  at  six  precisely.” 

When  Waller  had  read  the  note  through,  he  tossed  his 
hat  up  in  the  air,  and  with  something  little  short  of  an 
Indian  whoop,  shouted  out : 


HARRY  LORRE QUER . 


**5 

“ The  game  is  won  already.  Harry,  my  man,  give  me  the 
check  for  the  ten  thousand  : she  is  your  own  this  minute.” 

Without  participating  entirely  in  Waller’s  exceeding  de- 
light, I could  not  help  feeling  a growing  interest  in  the  part 
I was  advertised  to  perform,  and  began  my  rehearsal  with 
more  spirit  than  I thought  I should  have  been  able  to  com- 
mand. 

That  same  evening,  at  the  same  hour  as  that  in  which  on 
the  preceding  I sat  lone  and  comfortless  by  the  coffee-room 
fire,  I was  seated  opposite  a very  pompous,  respectable-look- 
ing old  man,  with  a large  stiff  queue  of  white  hair,  who 
pressed  me  repeatedly  to  fill  my  glass  and  pass  the  decanter. 
The  room  was  a small  library,  with  handsomely  fitted  shelves  ; 
there  were  but  four  chairs,  but  each  would  have  made 
at  least  three  of  any  modern  one;  the  curtains  of  deep  crim- 
son cloth  effectually  secured  the  room  from  draught ; and 
the  cheerful  wood  fire  blazing  on  the  hearth,  which  was  the 
only  light  in  the  apartment,  gave 'a  most  inviting  look  of 
comfort  and  snugness  to  everything.  This,  thought  I,  is 
excellent ; and  however  the  adventure  ends,  this  is  certainly 
pleasant,  and  I never  tasted  better  Madeira. 

“ And  so,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  you  heard  of  my  affair  at  Can- 
tantrabad,  when  I took  the  Rajah  prisoner  ! ” 

“ Yes,”  said  I;  “ the  Governor-General  mentioned  the 
gallant  business  the  very  last  time  I dined  at  Government- 
House.” 

“ Ah,  did  he  ? kind  of  him,  though.  Well,  sir,  I received 
two  millions  of  rupees  on  the  morning  after,  and  a promise 
of  ten  more  if  I would  permit  him  to  escape — but  no — I 
refused  flatly.” 

“ Is  it  possible?  and  what  did  you  do  with  the  two  mil- 
lions ? — sent  them,  of  course ” 

“ No  ; that  I didn’t ; the  wretches  know  nothing  of  the 
use  of  money.  No,  no;  I have  them  this  moment  in  good 
government  security. 

“ I believe  I never  mentioned  to  you  the  storming  of  Java. 
Fill  yourself  .another  glass,  and  I’ll  describe  it  all  to  you, 
for  it  will  be  of  infinite  consequence  that  a true  narrative  of 
this  meets  the  public  eye — they  really  are  quite  ignorant  of 
it.  Here  now  is  Fort  Cornelius,  and  there  is  the  moat,  the 
sugar  basin  is  the  citadel,  and  the  tongs  is  the  first  trench, 
the  decanter  will  represent  the  tall  tower  toward  the  sou’- 
west  angle,  and  here,  the  wine-glass — this  is  me.  Well,  it 


i i (5  HARR  V L ORREQ  UEll 

was  a little  after  ten  at  night  that  I got  the  order  from  the 
general  in  command  to  march  upon  this  plate  of  figs,  which 
was  an  open  space  before  Fort  Cornelius,  and  to  take  up  my 
position  in  front  of  the  Fort,  and  with  four  pieces  of  field 
artillery — these  walnuts  here — to  be  ready  to  open  fire  at  a 
moment’s  warning  upon  the  sou’-west  tower ; but,  my  dear 
sir,  you  have  moved  the  tower  ; I thought  you  were  drinking 
Madeira.  As  I said  before,  to  open  my  fire  upon  the  sou’- 
west  tower,  or  if  necessary  protect  the  sugar  tongs,  which  I 
explained  to  you  was  the  trench.  Just  at  the  same  time  the 
besieged  were  making  preparations  for  a sortie  to  occupy  this 
dish  of  almonds  and  raisins — the  high  ground  to  the  left  of 
my  position — put  another  log  on  the  fire,  if  you  please,  sir, 
for  I cannot  see  myself — I thought  I was  up  near  the  figs, 
and  I find  myself  down  near  the  half-moon.” 

“ It  is  past  nine,”  said  a servant,  entering  the  room  ; 
“ shall  I take  the  carriage  for  Miss  Kamworth,  sir  ? ” This 
being  the  first  time  the  name  of  the  young  lady  was  men- 
tioned since  my  arrival,  I felt  somewhat  anxious  to  hear 
more  of  her,  in  which  laudable  desire  I was  not  however  to 
be  gratified,  for  the  colonel,  feeling  considerably  annoyed  by 
the  interruption,  dismissed  the  servant  by  saying  : 

“ What  do  you  mean,  sirrah,  by  coming  in  at  this  moment ; 
don’t  you  see  I am  preparing  for  the  attack  on  the  half-moon  ? 
Mr.  Lorrequer,  I beg  your  pardon  for  one  moment;  this 
fellow  has  completely  put  me  out ; and  besides,  I perceive, 
you  have  eaten  the  flying  artillery,  and  in  fact,  my  dear  sir,  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  lay  down  the  position  again.” 

With  this  praiseworthy  interest  the  colonel  proceeded  to 
arrange  the  “ materiel  ” of  our  dessert  in  battle  array, when 
the  door  was  suddenly  thrown  open,  and  a very  handsome 
girl,  in  a most  becoming  detni  toilette , sprung  into  the  room, 
and  either  not  noticing  or  not  caring  that  a stranger  was 
present,  threw  herself  into  the  old  gentleman^  arms,  with 
a degree  of  empressement  exceedingly  vexatious  for  any  third 
and  unoccupied  party  to  witness. 

“ Mary,  my  dear,”  said  the  colonel,  completely  forgetting 
Java  and  Fort  Cornelius  at  once,  “you  don’t  perceive  I have 
a gentleman  to  introduce  to  you ; Mr.  Lorrequer,  my 
daughter,  Miss  Kamworth  ; ” here  the  young  lady  courtesied 
somewhat  stiffly,  and  I bowed  reverently  ; and  we  all  resumed 
places.  I now  found  out  that  Miss  Kamworth  had  been 
spending  the  preceding  four  or  five  days  at  a friend’s  in  the 


BARRY  LORRRQVER. 


t 


heigkborhood,  and  had  preferred  coming  home  somewhat 
unexpectedly  to  waiting  for  her  own  carriage. 

My  Confessions,  if  recorded  verbatim,  from  the  notes  of 
that  four  weeks’  sojourn,  would  only  increase  the  already  too 
prolix  and  uninteresting  details  of  this  chapter  in  my  life ; 
I need  only  say  that  without  falling  in  love  with  Mary 
Kamworth,  I felt  prodigiously  disposed  thereto  ; she  was 
extremely  pretty ; had  a foot  and  ankle  to  swear  by,  the 
most  silvery-toned  voice  I almost  ever  heard,  and  a certain 
witchery  and  archness  of  manner  that  by  its  very  tantalizing 
uncertainty  continually  provoked  attention,  and  by  suggesting 
a difficulty  in  the  road  to  success,  imparted  a more  than 
common  zest  in  the  pursuit.  She  was  a little,  a very  little 
blue,  rather  a dabbler  in  the  “ ologies,”  than  a real  disciple. 
Yet  she  made  collections  of  minerals,  and  brown  beetles, 
and  cryptogamias,  and  various  other  homeopathic  doses  of 
the  creation,  infinitesimally  small  in  their  subdivision  ; in 
none  of  which  I felt  any  interest,  save  in  the  excuse  they 
gave  for  accompanying  her  in  her  pony-phaeton.  This  was, 
however,  a rare  pleasure,  for  every  morning  for  at  least  three 
or  four  hours  I was  obliged  to  sit  opposite  the  colonel, 
engaged  in  the  compilation  of  that  narrative  of  his  res  gestce , 
which  was  to  eclipse  the  career  of  Napoleon  and  leave 
Wellington’s  laurels  but  a very  faded  lustre  in  comparison. 
In  this  agreeable  occupation  did  I pass  the  greater  part  of 
my  day,  listening  to  the  insufferable  prolixity  of  the  most 
prolix  of  colonels,  and  at  times,  notwithstanding  the  propin- 
quity of  relationship  which  awaited  us,  almost  regretting 
that  he  was  not  blown  up  in  any  of  the  numerous  explosions 
his  memoir  abounded  with.  I may  here  mention,  that  while 
my  literary  labor  was  thus  progressing,  the  young  lady 
continued  her  avocations  as  before — not  indeed  with  me  for 
her  companion — but  Waller  ; for  Colonel  Kamworth,  “ having 
remarked  the  steadiness  and  propriety  of  my  man,  felt  no 
scruple  in  sending  him  out  to  drive  Miss  Kamworth,”  partic- 
ularly as  I gave  him  a most  excellent  character  for  every 
virtue  under  Heaven. 

I must  hasten  on  : — The  last  evening  of  my  four  weeks 
was  drawing  to  a close.  Colonel  Kanrworth  had  pressed 
me  to  prolong  my  visit,  and  I only  waited  for  Waller’s  return 
from  Cheltenham,  whither  I had  sent  him  for  my  letters, 
to  make  arrangements  with  him  to  absolve  me  from  my 
ridiculous  bond,  and  accept  the  invitation.  We  were  sitting 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


118 

round  the  library  fire,  the  colonel,  as  usual,  narrating  his 
early  deeds  and  hair-breadth  ’scapes  ; Mary,  embroidering 
an  indescribable  something,  which  every  evening  made  its 
appearance,  but  seemed  never  to  advance,  was  rather  in 
better  spirits  than  usual,  at  the  same  time  her  manner  was 
nervous  and  uncertain  ; and  I could  perceive  by  her  fre- 
quent absence  of  mind  that  her  thoughts  were  not  so 
much  occupied  by  the  siege  of  Java  as  her  worthy  father 
believed  them.  Without  laying  any  stress  upon  the  circum- 
stance, I must  yet  avow  that  Waller’s  not  having  returned 
from  Cheltenham  gave  me  some  uneasiness,  and  I more  than 
once  had  recourse  to  the  bell  to  demand  if  “ my  servant  had 
come  back  yet  ? ” At  each  of  these  times  I well  remember 
the  peculiar  expression  of  Mary’s  look,  the  half  embarrassment, 
half  drollery,  with  which  she  listened  to  the  question,  and 
heard  the  answer  in  the  negative.  Supper  at  length  made 
its  appearance  ; and  I asked  the  servant  who  waited,  “ if  my 
man  had  brought  me  any  letters,”  varying  my  inquiry  to  con- 
ceal my  anxiety ; and  again  I heard  he  had  not  returned. 
Resolving  now  to  propose  in  all  form  for  Miss  Kamworth  the 
next  morning,  and  by  referring  the  colonel  to  my  uncle  Sir 
Guy,  smooth,  as  far  as  I could,  all  difficulties,  I wished  them 
good-night  and  retired  ; not,  however,  before  the  colonel  had 
warned  me  that  they  were  to  have  an  excursion  to  some 
place  in  the  neighborhood  the  next  day  ; and  begging  that  I 
might  be  in  the  breakfast-room  at  nine,  as  they  were  to 
assemble  there  from  all  parts,  and  start  early  on  the  expedi- 
tion. I was  in  a sound  sleep  the  following  morning,  when  a 
gentle  tap  at  the  door  awoke  me  ; at  the  same  time  I recog- 
nized the  voice  of  the  colonel’s  servant,  saying,  “ Mr.  Lorre- 
quer,  breakfast  is  waiting,  sir.” 

I sprung  up  at  once,  and  replying,  “ Very  well,  I shall 
come  down,”  proceeded  to  dress  in  all  haste,-  but  to  my 
horror,  I could  not  discern  a vestige  of  my  clothes  ; nothing 
remained  of  the  habiliments  I possessed  only  the  day  before 
— even  my  portmanteau  had  disappeared.  After  a most 
diligent  search,  I discovered,  on  a chair  in  the  corner  of  the 
room,  a small  bundle  tied  up  in  a handkerchief,  on  opening 
which  I perceived  a new  suit  of  livery  of  the  most  gaudy 
and  showy  description ; the  vest  and  breeches  of  yellow 
plush,  with  light  blue  binding  and  lace;  of  which  color  was 
also  the  coat,  which  had  a standing  collar  and  huge  cuffs, 
deeply  ornamented  with  worked  button-holes  and  large 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


11 9 

buttons.  As  I turned  the  things  over,  without  even  a guess 
of  what  they  could  mean,  for  I was  scarcely  well  awake,  I 
perceived  a small  slip  of  paper  fastened  to  the  coat  sleeve, 
upon  which  in  Waller’s  handwriting,  the  following  words 
were  written : 

“ The  livery  I hope  will  fit  you,  as  I am  rather  particular 
about  how  you’ll  look ; get  quietly  down  the  stable-yafd,  and 
dfi^e  the  tilbury  into  Cheltenham,  where  wait  for  further 
orders  from  your  kind  master, 

“ John  Waller.” 

The  horrible  villainy  of  this  wild  scamp  actually  paralyzed 
me.  That  I should  put  on  su^*  ridiculous  trumpery  was  out 
of  the  question  ; yet  what  was  to  be  done  ? I rang  the  bell 
violently  ; “ Where  are  my  clothes,  Thomas  ? ” 

“ Don’t  know,  sir ; I was  out  all  the  morning,  sir,  and 
never  seed  them.” 

“ There,  Thomas,  be  smart  now,  and  send  them  up,  will 
you  ?,  ” Thomas  disappeared,  and  speedily  returned  to  say, 
“ that  my  clothes  could  not  be  found  anywThere  ; no  one 
knew  anything  of  them,  and  begged  me  to  come  down,  as 
Miss  Kamworth  desired  him  to  say  that  they  were  still 
waiting,  and  she  begged  Mr.  Lorrequer  would  not  make  an 
elaborate  toilet,  as  they  were  going  on  a country  excursion.” 

An  elaborate  toilet ! I wish  to  heaven  she  saw  my 
costume ; no,  I’ll  never  do  it.  “ Thomas,  you  must  tell  the 
ladies,  and  the  colonel,  too,  that  I feel  very  ill ; I am  not 
able  to  leave  my  bed  ; I am  subject  to  attacks — very  violent 
attacks  in  my  head,  and  must  always  be  left  quiet  and  alone 
— perfectly  alone — mind  me,  Thomas — for  a day  at  least.” 
Thomas  departed  ; and  as  I lay  distracted  in  my  bed,  I 
heard,  from  the  breakfast  room,  the  loud  laughter  of  many 
persons  evidently  enjoying  some  excellent  joke  ; could  it  be 
me  they  were  laughing  at ; the  thought  was  horrible. 

“ Colonel  Kamworth  wishes  to  know  if  you’d  like  the  doc- 
tor, sir,”  said  Thomas,  evidently  suppressing  a most  inveter- 
ate fit  of  laughing,  as  he  again  appeared  at  the  door* 

“ No,  certainly  not,”  said  I,  in  a voice  of  thunder;  “what 
the  devil  are  you  grinning  at  ? ” 

“ You  may  as  well  come,  my  man  ; you’re  found  out : they 
all  know  it  now,”  said  the  fellow  with  an  odious  grin. 

I jumped  out  of  bed,  and  hurled  the  boot-jack  at  him  with 
all  my  strength  ; but  had  only  the  satisfaction  to  hear  him  go 


120 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


downstairs  chuckling  at  his  escape ; and  as  he  reached  the 
parlor,  the  increase  of  mirth  and  the  loudness  of  the  laughter 
told  me  that  he  was  not  the  only  one  who  was  merry  at  my 
expense.  Anything  was  preferable  to  this  ; downstairs  I 
resolved  to  go  at  once — but  how  ; a blanket,  I thought, 
would  not  be  a bad  thing,  and  particularly  as  I had  said  I 
was  ill ; I could  at  least  get  as  far  as  Colonel  Kamworth’s 
dressing-room,  and  explain  to  him  the  whole  affair  ; but  then 
if  I was  detected  en  route , which  I was  almost  sure  to  be, 
with  so  many  people  parading  about  the  house!  No;  that 
would  never  do  ; there  was  but  one  alternative,  and  dreadful, 
shocking  as  it  was,  I could  not  avoid  it,  and  with  a heavy 
heart,  and  as  much  indignation  at  Waller  for  what  I could 
not  but  consider  a most  scurvy  trick,  I donned  the  yellow 
inexpressibles ; next  came  the  vest,  and  last  the  coat,  with 
its  broad  flaps  and  lace  excrescences,  fifty  times  more  absurd 
and  merry-andrew  than  any  < 


with  his  table  and  two  chairs 


an  upper  gallery. 

If  my  costume  leaned  toward  the  ridiculous,  I resolved 
that  my  air  and  bearing  should  be  more  than  usually  austere 
and  haughty,  and  with  something  of  the  stride  of  John  Kem- 
ble in  Coriolanus,  I was  leaving  my  bedroom,  when  I acci- 
dentally caught  a view  of  myself  in  the  glass ; and  so  mortified, 
so  shocked  was  I,  that  I sank  into  a chair,  and  almost  aban- 
doned my  resolution  to  go  on ; the  very  gesture  I had  as- 
sumed for  my  vindication  only  increased  the  ridicule  of  my 
appearance;  and  the  strange  quaintness  of  the  costume 
totally  obliterated  every  trace  of  any  characteristic  of  the 
wearer,  so  infernally  cunning  was  its  contrivance.  I don’t 
think  that  the  most  saturnine  martyr  of  gout  and  dyspepsia 
could  survey  me  without  laughing.  With  a bold  effort  I 
flung  open  my  door,  hurried  down  the  stairs,  and  reached 
the  hall.  The  first  person  I met  was  a kind  of  pantry  boy, 
a beast  only  lately  emancipated  from  the  plough  and  destined 
after  a dozen  years’  training  as  a servant  again  to  be  turned 
back  to  his  old  employ,  for  incapacity ; he  grinned  horribly 
for  a minute,  as  I passed,  and  then  in  a half  whisper  said  : 

“ Maester,  I advise  ye  run  for  it ; they’re  a waiting  for  ye 
with  the  constables  in  the  justice  room.”  I gave  him  a 
look  of  contemptuous  superiority  at  which  he  grinned  the 
more,  and  passed  on. 

Without  stopping  to  consider  where  I was  going,  I opened 


BARRY  LORREQUER . 


121 


the  door  of  the  breakfast-parlor,  and  found  myself  in  one 
plunge  among  a room  full  of  people.  My  first  impulse  was 
to  retreat  again  ; but  so  shocked  was  I at  the  very  first  thing 
that  met  my  sight,  that  I was  perfectly  powerless  to  do  any- 
thing. Among  a considerable  number  of  people  who  stood 
in  small  groups  round  the  breakfast-table,  I discerned  Jack 
Waller,  habited  in  a very  accurate  black  frock  and  dark 
trousers,  supporting  upon  his  arm — shall  I confess  ? — no  less 
a person  than  Mary  Kamworth,  who  leaned  on  him  with  the 
familiarity  of  an  old  acquaintance,  and  chatted  gayly  with 
him.  The  buzz  of  conversation  which  filled  the  apartment 
when  I entered  ceased  for  a second  of  deep  silence  ; and 
then  followed  a peal  of  laughter  so  long  and  vociferous,  that 
in  my  momentary  anger  I prayed  some  one  might  burst  a 
blood-vessel,  and  frighten  the  rest.  I put  on  a look  of  in- 
describable indignation,  and  cast  a glance  of  what  I intended 
should  be  most  withering  scorn  on  the  assembly  ; but  alas  ! 
my  infernal  harlequin  costume  ruined  the  effect ; and  con- 
found me,  if  they  did  not  laugh  the  louder.  I turned  from 
one  to  the  other  with  the  air  of  a man  who  marks  out  victims 
for  his  future  wrath  ; but  with  no  better  success  ; at  last, 
amid  the  continued  mirth  of  the  party,  I made  my  way  to- 
ward where  Waller  stood  absolutely  suffocated  with  laughter, 
and  scarcely  able  to  stand  without  support. 

“ Waller,”  said  I,  in  a voice  half  tremulous  with  rage  and 
shame  together;  “Waller,  if  this  rascally  trick  be  yours,  rest 
assured  no  former  term  of  intimacy  between  us  shall ” 

Before  I could  conclude  my  sentence,  a bustle  at  the  door 
of  the  room  called  every  attention  in  that  direction  ; I turned 
and  beheld  Colonel  Kamworth,  followed  by  a strong  posse 
comitatus  of  constables,  tipstaffs,  etc.,  armed  to  the  teeth 
and  evidently  prepared  for  vigorous  battle.  Before  I was 
able  to  point  out  my  woes  to  my  kind  host,  he  burst  out 
with  : 

“ So,  you  scoundrel,  you  impostor,  you  damned  young 
villain,  pretending  to  be  a gentleman,  you  get  admission  into 
a man’s  house  and  dine  at  his  table,  when  your  proper  place 
had  been  behind  his  chair.  How  far  he  might  have  gone, 
heaven  can  tell,  if  that  excellent  young  gentleman,  his  mas- 
ter, had  not  traced  him  here  this  morning — but  you’ll  pay 
dearly  for  it,  you  young  rascal,  that  you  shall.” 

“ Colonel  Kamworth,”  said  I,  drawing  myself  proudly  up 
(and  I confess  exciting  new  bursts  of  laughter),  “Colonel 


- ' : I 

12  2 HARR  V L ORREQ  UER. 

Kamworth,  for  the  expressions  you  have  just  applied  to  me. 
a heavy  reckoning  awaits  you ; not,  however,  before  another 
individual  now  present  shall  atone  for  the  insult  he  has  dared 
to  pass  upon  me.”  Colonel  Kamworth’s  passion  at  this  dec* 
laration  knew  no  bounds  ; he  cursed  and  swore  absolutely 
like  a madman,  and  vowed  that  transportation  for  life  would 
be  a mild  sentence  for  such  iniquity. 

Waller,  at  length  wiping  the  tears  of  laughter,  from  his 
eyes,  interposed  between  the  colonel  and  his  victim,  and 
begged  that  I might  be  forgiven  ; “ for,  indeed,  my  dear  sir,” 
taid  he,  “ the  poor  fellow  is  of  rather  respectable  parentage, 
ind  such  is  his  taste  for  good  society  that  he’d  run  any  risk 

0 be  among  his  betters,  although,  as  in  the  present  case, 
.lie  exposure  brings  a rather  heavy  retribution  ; however, 
let  me  deal  with  him.  Come,  Henry,”  said  he,  with  an  air 
if  insufferable  superiority,  “ take  my  tilbury  into  town,  and 
ivait  for  me  at  the  George.  I shall  endeavor  to  make  your 
peace  with  my  eigcellent  friend,  Colonel  Kamworth,  and  the 
Lest  mode  you  can  contribute  to  that  object  is  to  let  us  have 
no  more  of  your  society.” 

I cannot  attempt  to  picture  my  rage  at  these  words ; how- 
ever, escape  from  this  diabolical  predicament  was  my  only 
present  object ; and  I rushed  from  the  room,  and  springing 
into  the  tilbury  at  the  door  drove  down  the  avenue  at  the 
rate  of  fifteen  miles  per  hour,  amid  the  united  cheers,  groans 
and  yells  of  the  whole  servants’  hall,  who  seemed  to  enjoy 
my  “ detection,”  more  even  than  their  betters.  Meditating 
vengeance,  sharp,  short,  and  decisive,  on  Waller,  the  colonel, 
and  every  one  else  in  the  infernal  conspiracy  against  me, 
for  I utterly  forgot  every  vestige  of  our  agreement  in  the 
surprise  by  which  I was  taken,  I reached  Cheltenham.  Un- 
fortunately, I had  no  friend  there  to  whose  management  I 
could  commit  the  bearing  of  a message,  and  was  obliged, 
as  soon  as  I could  procure  suitable  costume,  to  hasten  up 
to  Coventry  where  the  — th  dragoons  were  then  quartered. 

1 lost  no  time  in  selecting  an  adviser,  and  taking  the  neces- 
sary steps  to  bring  Master  Waller  to  a reckoning,  and  on  the 
third  morning  we  again  reached  Cheltenham,  I thirsting  for 
vengeance,  and  bursting  still  with  anger;  not  so,  my  friend, 
however,  who  never  could  discuss  the  affair  with  common 
gravity  and  even  ventured  every  now  and  then  on  a sly  allusion 
to  my  yellow  shorts.  As  we  passed  the  last  toll  bar,  a travel- 
ling carriage  came  whirling  by  with  four  horses  at  a tremen- 


HARR  V L ORREQUER. . 


123 


dous  pace;  and  as  the  morning  was  frosty,  and  the  sun 
scarcely  risen,  the  whole  team  was  smoking  and  steaming, 
so  as  to  be  half  invisible.  We  both  remarked  on  the  pre- 
cipitancy of  the  party ; for  as  our  own  pace  was  consider- 
able, the  two  vehicles  passed  like  lightning.  We  had  scarcely 
dressed,  and  ordered  breakfast,  when  a more  than  usual 
bustle  in  the  yard  called  us  to  the  window ; the  waiter  who 
^ame  in  at  the  same  instant  told  us  that  four  horses  were 
ordered  out  to  pursue  a young  lady  who  had  eloped  that 
(horning  with  an  officer. 

“ Ah,  our  friend  in  the  green  travelling  chariot,  I’ll  be 
bound,”  said  my  companion  ; but  as  neither  of  us  knew  that 
part  of  the  country  ; and  I was  too  engrossed  by  my  own 
thoughts,  I never  inquired  further.  As  the  chaise  in  chase 
drove  round  to  the  door,  I looked  to  see  what  the  pursuer 
was  like , and  as  he  issued  from  the  inn,  recognized  my  ci- 
devant  host,  Colonel  Kamworth.  I need  not  say  that  my 
vengeance  was  sated  at  once ; he  had  lost  his  daughter,  and 
Waller  was  on  the  road  to  be  married.  Apologies  and  ex- 
planations came  in  due  time,  for  all  my  injuries  and  suffer- 
ings ; and  I confess,  the  part  which  pleased  me  most  was, 
that  I saw  no  more  of  Jack  for  a considerable  period  after; 
he  started  for  the  Continent,  where  he  has  lived  ever  since 
on  a small  allowance,  granted  by  his  father-in-law,  and 
never  paying  me  the  stipulated  sum,  as  I had  clearly  broken 
the  compact. 

So  much  for  my  second  attempt  at  matrimony;  one  would 
suppose  that  such  experience  should  be  deemed  sufficient  to 
show  that  my  talent  did  not  lie  in  that  way.  And  here  I 
must  rest  for  the  present,  with  the  additional  confession, 
that  so  strong  was  the  memory  of  that  vile  adventure,  that  I 
refused  a lucrative  appointment  under  Lord  Anglesey’s 
government,  when  I discovered  that  his  livery  included  “ yel- 
low plush  breeches  ; ” to  have  such  “ souvenirs  ” flitting 
around  and  about  me,  at  dinner  and  elsewhere,  would  hav^ 
left  me  without  a pleasure  in  existence. 


BARRY  tORREQl/RR. 


U4r 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DUBLIN — TOM  o’FLAHERTY — A REMINISCENCE  OF  THE  PENIN* 

SULA. 

Dfjvr,  dirty  Dublin — “ Io  te  salute,” — how  many  excellent 
things  may  be  said  of  thee,  if,  unfortunately,  it  did  not  hap- 
pen that  the  theme  is  an  old  one,  and  has  been  much  better 
sung  that  it  can  ever  now  be  said.  With  thus  much  of 
apology  for  no  more  lengthened  panegyric,  let  me  beg  of  my 
reader,  if  he  be  conversant  with  that  most  moving  melody — • 
the  Groves  of  Blarney — to  hum  the  following  lines,  which 
I heard  shortly  after  my  landing,  and  which  will  express  my 
own  feelings  for  the  “ loved  spot  ” : 

“ O ! Dublin  sure  there  is  no  doubtin' 

Beats  every  city  upon  the  say, 

’Tis  there  you’ll  see  O’Connell  spouting, 

And  the  Lady  Morgan  maying  * tay .* 

For  ’tis  the  capital  of  the  greatest  nation, 

With  finest  peasantry  on  a fruitful  sod, 

Fighting  like  devils  for  conciliation, 

And  hating  each  other  for  the  love  of  God.” 

Once  more,  then,  I found  myself  in  “ the  most  car-driv- 
ingest  city,”  en  route  to  join  on  the  expiration  of  my  leave. 
Since  my  departure,  my  regiment  had  been  ordered  to  Kil- 
kenny, that  sweet  city,  so  famed  in  songs  for  its  “ fire  with- 
out smoke  ; ” but  which,  were  its  character  in  any  way  to  be 
derived  from  its  past  or  present  representative,  might  cer- 
tainly, with  more  propriety,  reverse  the  epithet,  and  read 
“ smoke  without  fire.”  My  last  communication  from  head- 
quarters was  full  of  nothing  but  gay  doings — balls,  dinners, 
dejeuners,  and  more  than  all,  private  theatricals,  seemed  to 
occupy  the  entire  attention. of  every  man  of  the  gallant  — th. 
I was  earnestly  entreated  to  come  without  waiting  for  the 
end  of  my  leave — that  several  of  my  old  “ narts  were  kept 
open  for  me  ; ” and  that,  in  fact,  the  “ boys  of  Kilkenny  ” 
were  on  tip-toe  expectation  of  my  arrival,  as  though  his  Maj- 
esty’s mail  wTere  to  convey  a Kean  or  a Kemble.  I shuddered 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


a little  as  I read  this,  and  recollected  “my  last  appearance  on 
any  stage,”  little  anticipating,  at  the  moment,  that  my  next 
was  to  be  nearly  as  productive  of  the  ludicrous,  as  time  and 
my  confessions  will  show.  One  circumstance,  however,  gave 
me  considerable  pleasure.  It  was  this : I took  it  for  granted, 
that  in  the  varied  and  agreeable  occupations  which  so 
pleasurable  a career  opened,  my  adventures  in  love  would 
escape  notice,  and  that  I should  avoid  the  merciless  raillery 
my  two  failures,  in  six  months,  might  reasonably  be  supposed 
to  call  forth.  I therefore  wrote  a hurried  note  to  Curzon, 
setting  forth  the  great  interest  all  their  proceedings  had  for 
me,  and  assuring  him  that  my  stay  in  town  should  be  as 
short  as  possible,  for  that  I longed  once  more  to  “ strut  the 
monarch  of  the  boards,”  and  concluded  with  a sly  paragraph, 
artfully  intended  to  act  as  a “ paratonnerre  ” to  the  gibes  and 
jests  which  I dreaded,  by  endeavoring  to  make  light  of  my 
matrimonial  speculations.  The  postscript  ran  somewhat 
thus — “ Glorious  fun  have  I had  since  we  met ; but  were  it 
not  that  my  good  angel  stood  by  me,  I should  write  these 
hurried  lines  with  a wife  at  my  elbow ; but  luck,  that  never 
yet  deserted,  is  still  faithful  to  your  old  friend,  H.  Lorre- 
quer.” 

My  reader  may  suppose — for  he  is  sufficiently  behind  the 
scenes  with  me — with  what  feelings  I penned  these  words  ; 
yet  anything  was  better  than  the  attack  I looked  forward  to : 
and  I should  rather  have  changed  into  the  Cape  Rifle  Corps, 
or  any  other  army  of  martyrs,  than  meet  my  mess  with  all 
the  ridicule  my  late  proceedings  exposed  me  to.  Having 
disburdened  my  conscience  of  this  dread,  I finished  my  break- 
fast, and  set  out  on  a stroll  through  the  town. 

I believe  it  is  Coleridge  who  somewhere  says,  that  to 
transmit  the  first  bright  and  early  impressions  of  our  youth, 
fresh  and  uninjured,  to  a remote  period  of  life,  constitutes 
one  of  the  loftiest  prerogatives  of  genius.  If  this  be  true — 
and  I am  not  disposed  to  dispute  it — what  a gifted  people 
must  be  the  worthy  inhabitants  of  Dublin  ; for  I scruple  not 
to  affirm,  that  of  all  cities  of  which  we  have  any  record  in 
history,  sacred  or  profane,  there  is  not  one  so  little  likely  to 
disturb  the  tranquil  current  of  such  reminiscences.  “ As  it 
was  of  old,  so  it  is  now,”  enjoying  a delightful  permanency 
in  all  its  habits  and  customs,  which  no  changes  elsewhere 
disturb  or  affect ; and  in  this  respect  I defy  O’Connell  and 
fell  the  tail  to  refuse  it  the  epithet  of  “ Conservative?” 


126 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


Had  the  excellent  Rip  Van  Winkle,  instead  of  seeking  his 
repose  upon  the  cold  and  barren  acclivities  of  the  Catskills 
- — as  we  are  veritably  informed  by  Irving — but  betaken  him- 
self ^o  the  comfortable  bed  at  Morrison’s  or  the  Bilton,  not 
only  would  he  have  enjoyed  a more  agreeable  siesta,  but, 
what  the  event  showed  of  more  consequence,  the  pleasing 
satisfaction  of  not  being  disconcerted  by  novelty  on  his 
awakening.  It  is  possible  that  the  waiter  who  brought  him 
the  water  to  shave — for  Rip’s  beard,  we  are  told,  had  grown 
uncommonly  long — might  exhibit  a little  of  that  wear  and 
tear  to  which  humanity  is  liable  from  time  ; but  had  he 
questioned  him  as  to  the  ruling  topics — the  popular  amuse- 
ments of  the  day — he  would  have  heard,  as  he  might  have 
done  twenty  years  before,  that  there  was  a meeting  to  con- 
vert Jews  at  the  Rotunda  ; another  to  rob  parsons  at  the 
Corn  Exchange ; that  the  viceroy  was  dining  with  the 
corporation,  and  congratulating  them  on  the  prosperity  of 
Ireland,  while  the  inhabitants  were  regaled  with  a procession 
of  the  “ broad  ribbon  weavers,”  who  had  not  weaved,  heaven 
knows  when  ! This,  with  an  occasional  letter  from  Mr. 
O’Connell,  and  now  and  then  a duel  in  the  “ Phaynix,”  con- 
stituted the  current  pastimes  of  the  city.  Such  at  least  were 
they  in  my  day ; and  though  far  from  the  dear  locale,  an 
odd  flitting  glance  at  the  newspapers  induces  me  to  believe 
that  matters  are  not  much  changed  since. 

I rambled  through  the  streets  for  some  hours,  revolving 
such  thoughts  as  were  pressed  upon  me  involuntarily  by  all 
I saw.  The  same  little  gray  homunculus  that  filled  my 
“ prince’s  mixture  ” years  before,  stood  behind  the  counter 
at  Lundy  Foot’s  weighing  out  rappee  and  high  toast,  just  as 
I last  saw  him.  The  fat  college  porter,  that  I used  to  mis- 
take in  my  school-days  for  the  Provost,  God  forgive  me  ! 
was  there  as  fat  and  as  ruddy  as  heretofore,  and  wore  his 
Roman  costume  of  helmet  and  plush  breeches,  with  an  air 
as  classic.  The  old  state  trumpeter  at  the  castle,  another 
object  of  my  youthful  veneration,  poor  “ old  God  save  the 
king,”  as  we  used  to  call  him,  walked  the  streets  as  of  old  : 
his  cheeks,  indeed,  a little  more  lank  and  tendonous ; but 
then  there  had  been  many  viceregal  changes,  and  the  “ one 
sole  melody  his  heart  delighted,”  had  been  more  frequently 
called  into  requisition,  as  he  marched  in  solemn  state  with 
the  other  antique  gentlemen  in  tabards.  As  I walked  along, 
each  moment  some  old  and  early  association  being  sug 


HARRY  LORREQUER, 


127 


gested  by  the  objects  around,  I felt  my  arm  suddenly  seized. 
I turned  hastily  round,  and  beheld  a very  old  companion  in 
many  a hard-fought  field  and  merry  bivouac,  Tom  O’Flaherty 
of  the  8th.  Poor  Tom  was  sadly  changed  since  we  last  met, 
which  was  at  a ball  in  Madrid.  He  was  then  one  of  the  best- 
looking fellows  of  his  “style”  I ever  met — tall,  athletic, 
with  the  easy  bearing  of  a man  of  the  world,  and  a certain 
jauntiness  that  I have  never  seen  but  in  Irishmen  who  have 
mixed  much  in  society. 

There  was  also  a certain  peculiar  devil-may-care  reckless- 
ness about  the  self-satisfied  swagger  of  his  gait,  and  the  free- 
and-easy  glance  of  his  sharp  black  eye,  united  with  a temper 
that  nothing  could  ruffle,  and  a courage  nothing  could  daunt. 
With  such  qualifications  as  these,  he  had  been  the  prime 
favorite  of  his  mess,  to  which  he  never  came  without  some 
droll  story  to  relate,  or  some  choice  expedient  for  future 
amusement.  Such  had  Tom  once  been ; now  he  was  much 
altered,  and  though  the  quiet  twinkle  of  his  dark  eye  showed 
that  the  spirit  of  fun  within  was  not  “ dead,  but  only  sleep- 
ing,”— to  myself,  who  knew  something  of  his  history,  it 
seemed  almost  cruel  to  awaken  him  to  anything  which 
might  bring  him  back  to  the  memory  of  by-gone  days.  A 
momentary  glance  showed  me  that  he  was  no  longer  what  he 
had  been,  and  that  the  unfortunate  change  in  his  condition, 
the  loss  of  all  his  earliest  and  oldest  associates,  and  his 
blighted  prospects  had  nearly  broken  a heart  that  never 
deserted  a friend,  nor  quailed  before  an  enemy.  Poor 
O’Flaherty  was  no  more  the  delight  of  the  circle  he  once 
adorned  ; the  wit  that  “ set  the  table  in  a roar”  was  all  but 
departed.  He  had  been  dismissed  the  service  ! The  story 
is  a brief  one  : 

In  the  retreat  from  Burgos,  the — Light  Dragoons,  after  a 
most  fatiguing  day’s  march,  halted  at  the  wretched  village  of 
Cabenas.  It  had  been  deserted  by  the  inhabitants  the  day 
before,  who  on  leaving  had  set  it  on  fire ; and  the  blackened 
walls  and  fallen  roof-trees  were  nearly  all  that  now  remained 
to  show  where  the  little  hamlet  had  once  stood. 

Amid  a down-pour  of  rain,  that  had  fallen  for  several 
hours,  drenched  to  the  skin,  cold,  weary,  and  nearly  starv- 
ing, the  gallant  8th  reached  this  melancholy  spot  at  night- 
fall, with  little  better  prospect  of  protection  from  the  storm 
than  the  barren  heath  through  which  their  road  led  might 
afford  them.  Among  the  many  who  muttered  curses,  not 


128 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


loud  but  deep,  on  the  wretched  termination  to  their  day’s 
suffering,  there  was  one  who  kept  up  his  usual  good  spirits, 
and  not  only  seemed  himself  nearly  regardless  of  the  priva- 
tions and  miseries  about  him,  but  actually  succeeded  in 
making  the  others  who  rode  alongside  as  perfectly  forgetful 
of  their  annoyances  and  troubles  as  was  possible  under  such 
circumstances.  Good  stories,  joking  allusions  to  the  more 
discontented  ones  of  the  party,  ridiculous  plans  for  the 
night’s  encampment,  followed  each  other  so  rapidly,  that  the 
weariness  of  the  way  was  forgotten ; and  while  some  were 
cursing  their  hard  fate,  that  ever  betrayed  them  into  such 
misfortunes,  the  little  group  round  O’Flaherty  were  almost 
convulsed  with  laughter  at  the  wit  and  drollery  of  one  over 
whom,  if  the  circumstances  had  any  influence,  they  seemed 
only  to  heighten  his  passion  for  amusement.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  morning  he  had  captured  a turkey  ; which  hung 
gracefully  from  his  holster  on  one  side,  while  a small  goat- 
skin of  Valencia  wine  balanced  it  on  the  other.  These  good 
things  were  destined  to  form  a feast  that  evening,  to  which 
he  had  invited  four  others  ; that  being,  according  to  his  most 
liberal  calculation,  the  greatest  number  to  whom  he  could 
afford  a reasonable  supply  of  wine. 

When  the  halt  was  made,  it  took  some  time  to  arrange  the 
dispositions  for  the  night ; and  it  was  nearly  midnight  before 
all  that  regiment  had  got  their  billets  and  were  housed,  even 
with  such  scanty  accommodation  as  the  place  afforded. 
Tom’s  guests  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  he  himself  was  busily 
engaged  in  roasting  the  turkey  before  a large  fire,  on  which 
stood  a capacious  vessel  of  spiced  wine,  when  the  party 
appeared.  A very  cursory  “ reconnaisance  ” through  the 
house,  one  of  the  only  ones  untouched  in  the  village,  showed 
that  from  the  late  rain  it  would  be  impossible  to  think  of 
sleeping  in  the  lower  Itory,  which  already  showed  signs  of 
being  flooded ; they  therefore  proceeded  in  a body  upstairs, 
and  what  was  their  delight  to  find  a most  comfortable  room, 
neatly  furnished  with  chairs,  and  a table  ; but  above  all,  a 
large  old-fashioned  bed,  an  object  of  such  luxury  as  only  an 
old  campaigner  can  duly  appreciate.  The  curtains  were 
closely  tucked  in  all  round,  and,  in  their  fleeting  and  hurried 
glance,  they  felt  no  inclination  to  disturb  them,  and  rather 
proceeded  to  draw  up  the  table  before  the  hearth,  to  which 
they  speedily  removed  the  fire  from  below  ; and,  ere  many 
minutes,  with  that  activity  which  a bivouac  life  invariably 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


129 

teaches,  their  supper  smoked  before  them,  and  five  happier 
fellows  did  not  sit  down  that  night  within  a large  circuit 
around.  Tom  was  unusually  great ; stories  of  drollery,  un- 
locked before,  poured  from  him  unceasingly,  and  what  with 
his  high  spirits  to  excite  them,  and  the  reaction  inevitable  after 
a hard  day’s  severe  march,  the  party  soon  lost  the  little 
reason  that  usually  sufficed  to  guide  them,  and  became  as 
pleasantly  tipsy  as  can  well  be  conceived.  However,  all 
good  things  must  have  an  end,  and  so  had  the  wineskin. 
Tom  had  placed  it  affectionately  under  his  arm  like  a bag- 
pipe, and  failed,  with  even  a most  energetic  squeeze,  to  extract 
a drop ; there  was  now  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  to  rest,  and 
indeed  it  seemed  the  most  prudent  thing  for  the  party. 

The.  bed  became  accordingly  a subject  of  grave  delibera- 
tion ; for  as  it  could  only  hold  two,  and  the  party  were  five, 
there  seemed  some  difficulty  in  submitting  their  chances  to 
lot,  which  all  agreed  was  the  fairest  way.  While  this  was 
under  discussion,  one  of  the  party  had  approached  the  con- 
tested prize,  and  taking  up  the  curtains,  proceeded  to  jump 
in — when,  what  was  his  astonishment  to  discover  that  it  was 
already  occupied.  The  exclamation  of  surprise  he  gave 
forth  soon  brought  the  others  to  his  side,  and  to  their  horror, 
drunk  as  they  were,  they  found  that  the  body  before  them 
was  that  of  a deaa  man,  arrayed  in  all  the  ghastly  pomp  of  a 
corpse.  A little  nearer  inspection  showed  that  he  had  been 
a priest,  probably  the  Padre  of  the  village  ; on  his  head  he 
had  a small  velvet  cap,  embroidered  with  a cross,  and  his 
body  was  swathed  in  a vestment,  such  as  priests  usually 
wear  at  the  mass  ; in  his  hand  he  held  a large  wax  taper, 
which  appeared  to  have  burned  only  half  down,  and  probably 
been  extinguished  by  the  current  of  air  on  opening  the  door. 
After  the  first  brief  shock  which  this  sudden  apparition  had 
caused,  the  party  recovered  as  much  of  their  senses  as  the 
wine  had  left  them,  and  proceeded  to  discuss  what  was  to 
be  done  under  the  circumstances  : for  not  one  of  them  ever 
contemplated  giving  up  a bed  to  a dead  priest,  while  five 
living  men  slept  on  the  ground.  After  much  altercation, 
O’Flaherty,  who  had  hitherto  listened  without  speaking,  in- 
terrupted the  contending  parties,  saying,  “ Stop,  lads,  I have 
it.” 

“ Come,”  said  one  of  them,  “ let  us  hear  Tom’s  pro* 

posal.” 

“ Oh,”  said  he,  with  difficulty  steadying  himself  while  he 


130  HARRY  LORREQUER. 

spoke,  “ we’ll  put  him  to  bed  with  old  Ridgeway  the  quarter- 
master.” 

The  roar  of  loud  laughter  that  followed  Tom’s  device  was 
renewed  again  and  again,  till  not  a man  could  speak  from 
absolute  fatigue.  There  was  not  a dissentient  voice.  Old 
Ridgeway  was  hated  in  the  corps,  and  a better  way  of  dis- 
posing of  the  priest  and  paying  off  the  quartermaster  could 
not  be  thought  of. 

Very  little  time  sufficed  for  their  preparations  ; and  if  they 
had  been  brought  up  under  the  Duke  of  Portland  himself, 
they  could  not  have  exhibited  a greater  taste  for  a “ black 
job.”  The  door  of  the  room  was  quickly  taken  from  its 
hinges,  and  the  priest  placed  upon  it  at  full  length  ; a 
moment  more  sufficed  to  lift  the  door  upon  their  shoulders, 
and  proceeded  by  Tom,  who  lit  a candle  in  honor  of  being  as 
he  said,  “ chief  mourner,”  they  took  their  way  through  tfte 
camp  toward  Ridgeway’s  quarters.  When  they  reached  the 
hut  where  their  victim  lay,  Tom  ordered  a halt,  and  pro- 
ceeded stealthily  into  the  house  to  reconnoitre.  The  old 
quartermaster  he  found  stretched  on  his  sheep-skin  before  a 
large  fire,  the  remnants  of  an  ample  supper  strewed  about 
him,  and  two  empty  bottles  standing  on  the  hearth — his 
deep  snoring  showed  that  all  was  safe,  and  that  no  fears 
of  his  awaking  need  disturb  them.  His  shako  and  sword 
lay  near  him,  but  his  sabretasche  was  under  his  head  ; Tom 
carefully  withdrew  the  former  ; and  hastening  to  his  friends 
without,  proceeded  to  decorate  the  priest  with  them  ; express- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  considerable  regret  that  he  feared  it 
might  wake  Ridgeway,  if  he  were  to  put  the  velvet  skull-cap 
on  him  for  a night-cap. 

Noiselessly  and  stealthily  they  now  entered,  and  proceeded 
to  put  down  their  burden,  which,  after  a moment’s  discussion, 
they  agreed  to  place  between  the  quartermaster  and  the  fire, 
of  which,  hitherto,  he  had  reaped  ample  benefit.  This  done, 
they  stealthily  retre^ed,  and  hurried  back  to  their  quarters, 
unable  to  speak  with  laughter  at  the  success  of  their  plot, 
and  their  anticipation  of  Ridgeway’s  rage  on  awakening  in 
the  morning. 

It  was  in  the  dim  twilight  of  a nasty  morning,  that  the 
bugler  of  the  8th  aroused  the  sleeping  soldiers  from  their 
miserable  couches,  which,  wretched  as  they  were,  they  never- 
theless rose  from  reluctantly — so  wearied  and  fatigued  had 
they  been  by  the  preceding  day’s  march  ; not  one  among  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


r3i 

number  felt  so  indisposed  to  stir  as  the  worthy  quarter- 
master : his  peculiar  avocations  had  demanded  a more  than 
usual  exertion  on  his  part,  and  in  the  posture  he  had  lain 
down  at  night,  he  rested  till  morning  without  stirring  a limb. 
Twice  the  reveille  had  rung  through  the  little  encampment, 
and  twice  the  quartermaster  had  essayed  to  open  his  eyes 
but  in  vain  ; at  last  he  made  a tremendous  effort,  and  sat 
bolt  upright  on  the  floor,  hoping  that  the  sudden  effort  might 
sufficiently  arouse  him  ; slowly  his  eyes  opened,  and  the  first 
thing  that  they  beheld  was  the  figure  of  the  dead  priest,  with  a 
light  cavalry  helmet  on  his  head,  seated  before  him.  Ridge- 
way, who  was  “ bon  Catholique,”  trembled  in  every  joint — it 
might  he  a ghost,  it  might  be  a warning,  he  knew  not  what 
to  think — he  imagined  the  lips  moved,  and  so  overcome  with 
terror  was  he  at  last,  that  he  absolutely  shouted  like  a 
maniac  ; and  never  ceased  till  the  hut  was  filled  with  officers 
and  men,  who  hearing  the  uproar  ran  to  his  aid.  The 
surprise  of  the  poor  quartermaster  at  the  apparition  was 
scarcely  greater  than  that  of  the  beholders.  No  one  was 
able  to  afford  any  explanation  of  the  circumstances,  though 
ail  were  assured  that  it  must  have  been  done  in  jest.  The 
door  upon  which  the  priest  had  been  conveyed,  afforded  the 
clew — they  had  forgotten  to  restore  it  to  its  place.  Accord- 
ingly the  different  billets  were  examined,  and  at  last 
O’Flaherty  was  discovered  in  a most  commodious  bed,  in  a 
large  room  without  a door,  still  fast  asleep,  and  alone  ; how 
and  when  he  had  parted  from  his  companions,  he  never 
could  precisely  explain,  though  he  has  since  confessed  it  was 
part  of  his  scheme  to  lead  them  astray  in  the  village,  and 
then  retire  to  the  bed,  which  he  had  determined  to  approp- 
riate to  his  sole  use. 

Old  Ridgeway’s  rage  knew  no  bounds  ; he  absolutely 
foamed  with  passion,  and  in  proportion  as  he  was  laughed  at 
his  choler  rose  higher  ; had  this  been  the  only  result,  it  had 
been  well  for  poor  Tom,  but  unfortunately  the  affair  got  to 
be  rumored  through  the  country — the  inhabitants  of  the 
villages  learned  the  indignity  with  which  the  Padre  had 
been  treated  ; they  addressed  a memorial  to  Lord  Wellington 
— inquiry  was  immediately  instituted — O’Flaherty  was  tried 
by  court-martial,  and  found  guilty ; nothing  short  of  the 
heaviest  punishment  that  could  be  inflicted  under  the  cir- 
cumstances would  satisfy  the  Spaniards,  and  at  that  precise 
period  it  was  part  of  our  policy  to  conciliate  their  esteem 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


by  every  means  in  our  power.  The  Commander-in-chief 
resolved  to  make  what  he  called  an  “ example,”  and  poot 
O’Flaherty — the  life  and  soul  of  his  regiment — the  darling 
of  his  mess,  was  broke,  and  pronounced  incapable  of  ever 
serving  his  Majesty  again.  Such  was  the  event  upon 
which  my  poor  friend’s  fortune  iii  life  seemed  to  hinge — h© 
returned  to  Ireland,  if  not  entirely  broken-hearted,  so  altered 
that  his  best  friends  scarcely  knew  him  ; his  “ occupation 
was  gone ; ” the  mess  had  been  his  home ; his  brother 
officers  were  to  him  in  place  of  relatives,  and  he  had  lost  all. 
His  after  life  was  spent  in  rambling  from  one  watering-place 
to  another,  more  with  the  air  of  one  who  seeks  to  consume 
than  enjoy  his  time  ; and  with  such  a change  in  appearance  as 
the  alteration  in  his  fortune  had  effected,  he  now  stood  before 
me,  but  altogether  so  different  a man,  that  but  for  the  well- 
known  tones  of  a voice  that  had  so  often  convulsed  me  with 
laughter,  I should  have  scarcely  recognized  him. 

“ Lori*equer,  my  old  friend,  I never  thought  of  seeing  you 
here  ; this  is  indeed  a piece  of  good  luck.” 

“Why,  Tom?  You  surely  knew  that  the were  in 

Ireland,  didn’t  you  ? ” 

“To  be  sure.  I dined  with  them  only  a few  days  ago, 
but  they  told  me  you  were  off  to  Paris,  to  marry  something 
superlatively  beautiful,  and  most  enormously  rich,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a duke,  if  I remember  right ; but,  certes,  they  said  your 
fortune  was  made,  and  I need  not  tell  you,  there  was  not 
a man  among  them  better  pleased  than  I was  to  hear  it.” 

“ Oh  ! they  said  so,  did  they  ? Droll  dogs — always  quiz- 
zing— I wonder  you  did  not  perceive  the  hoax — eh — very 
good,  was  it  not  ? ” This  I poured  out  in  short  broken 
sentences,  blushing  like  scarlet,  and  fidgeting  like  a school- 
girl in  downright  nervousness. 

“ A hoax  ! devilish  well  done,  too,” — said  Tom,  “ for  old 
Carden  believed  the  whole  story,  and  told  me  that  he  had 
obtained  a six  months’  leave  for  you  to  make  your  cour,  and 
moreover,  said  that  he  had  got  a letter  from  the  nobleman, 
Lord confound  his  name,” 

“ Lord  Grey,  is  it  ? ” said  I,  with  a sly  look  at  Tom. 

“ No,  my  dear  friend,”  said  he  dryly,  “ it  was  not  Lord 
Grey — but  to  continue — he  had  got  a letter  from  him,  dated 
from  Paris,  stating  his  surprise  that  you  had  never  joined 
them  there,  according  to  promise,  and  that  they  knew  your 
cpqsin  Guy,  and.  a great  deal  of  other  matter  J can’t 


HARRY  LORREQUER.  133 

remember — so  what  does  all  this  mean  ? Did  you  hoax  the 
noble  Lord  as  well  as  the  Horse  Guards,  Harry  ? ” 

This  was  indeed  a piece  of  news  for  me ; I stammered  out 
some  ridiculous  explanation,  and  promised  a fuller  detail. 
Could  it  be  that  I had  done  the  Callonbys  injustice,  and  that 
they  never  intended  to  break  off  my  attentions  to  Lady  Jane 
— that  she  was  still  faithful,  and  that  of  all  concerned  I 
alone  had  been  to  blame  ? Oh,  how  I hoped  that  this  might 
be  the  case  ; heavily  as  my  conscience  might  accuse,  I longed 
ardently  to  forgive  and  deal  mercifully  with  myself.  Tom 
. continued  to  talk  about  indifferent  matters,  as  these  thoughts 
flitted  through  my  mind ; perceiving  at  last  that  I did  not 
attend,  he  stopped  suddenly  and  said : 

“ Harry,  I see  clearly  that  something  has  gone  wrong,  and 
perhaps  I can  make  a guess  at  the  mode  too ; but,  however, 
you  can  do  nothing  about  it  now  ; com$  and  dine  with  me 
to-day,  and  wefll  discuss  the  affair  together  after  dinner  ; or 
if  you  prefer  a ‘ distraction/  as  we  used  to  say  in  Dunkerque, 
why  then,  I’ll  arrange  something  fashionable  for  your  even- 
ing’s amusement.  Come,  what  say  you  to  hearing  Father 
Keogh  preach,  or  would  you  like  a supper  at  the  Carling- 
ford,  or  perhaps  you  prefer  a soiree  chez  Maladi — for  all  of 
these  Dublin  affords — all  three  good  in  their  way  and  very 
intellectual.” 

“Well,  Tom,  I’m  yours;  but  I should  prefer  your  dining 
with  me  ; I am  at  Bilton’s ; we’ll  have  our  cutlet  quite  alone, 
and ” 

“ And  be  heartily  sick  of  each  other,  you  were  going  to 
add.  No,  no,  Harry  ; you  must  dine  with  me;  I have  some 
remarkably  nice  people  to  present  to  you — six  is  the  hour — 
sharp  six — number  — Molesworth  Street,  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle’s 
— easily  find  it — large  fanlight  over  the  door — huge  lamp  in 
the  hall,  and  a strong  odor  of  mutton  broth  for  thirty  yards 
on  each  side  of  the  premises — and  as  good  luck  would  have 
it,  I see  old  Daly,  the  counsellor,  as  they  call  him  ; he  is  the 
very  man  to  get  to  meet  you — you  always  liked  a character, 
eh?” 

Saying  this,  O’ Flaherty  disengaged  himself  from  my  arm, 
and  hurried  across  the  street  toward  a portly  middle-aged 
looking  gentleman,  with  the  reddest  face  I ever  beheld. 
After  a brief  but  very  animated  colloquy,  Tom  returned,  and 
informed  me  that  all  was  right ; he  had  secured  Daly. 

“ And  who  is  Daly  ? ” said  I,  inquiringly,  for  I was  rather 


?34 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 

interested  in  hearing  what  peculiar  qualification  as  a diner- 
out  the  counsellor  might  lay  claim  to,  many  of  Tom’s  friends 
being  as  remarkable  for  being  the  quizzed  as  the  quizzers. 

“ Daly,”  said  he,  “ is  the  brother  of  a most  distinguished 
member  of  the  Irish  bar,  of  which  he  himself  is  also  a 
follower,  bearing,  however,  no  other  resemblance  to  the 
clever  man  than  the  name,  for  assuredly  as  the  reputation 
of  the  one  is  inseparably  linked  with  success,  so  unerringly 
is  the  other  coupled  with  failure ; and,  strange  to  sav,  the 
stupid  man  is  fairly  convinced  that  his  brother  owes  all  his 
success  to  him,  and  that  to  his  disinterested  kindness  the 
other  is  indebted  for  his  present  exalted  station.  Thus  it  is 
through  life  ; there  seems  ever  to  accompany  dulness  abs- 
taining power  of  vanity,  that,  like  a life-buoy,  keeps  a mass 
afloat  whose  weight  unassisted  would  sink  into  obscurity. 
Do  you  know  that  my  friend  Denis  there  imagines  himself 
the  first  man  that  ever  enlightened  Sir  Robert  Peel  as  to 
Irish  affairs  ; and,  upon  my  word,  his  reputation  on  this  head 
stands  incontestably  higher  than  on  most  others.” 

“ You  surely  cannot  mean  that  Sir  Robert  Peel  ever  con- 
sulted with,  much  less  relied  upon,  the  statements  of  such  a 
person  as  you  describe  your  friend  Denis  to  be  ? ” 

“ He  did  both — and  if  he  was  a little  puzzled  by  the  in- 
formation, the  only  disgrace  attaches  to  a government  that 
send  men  to  rule  over  us  unacquainted  with  our  habits  of 
thinking,  and  utterly  ignorant  of  the  language — ay,  I repeat 
it — but  come,  you  shall  judge  for  yourself  ; the  story  is  a 
short  one,  and  fortunately  so,  for  I must  hasten  home  to 
give  timely  notice  of  your  coming  to  dine  with  me.  When 
the  present  Sir  Robert  Peel,  then  Mr.  Peel,  came  over  here 
as  Secretary  to  Ireland,  a very  distinguished  political  leader 
of  the  day  invited  a party  to  meet  him  at  dinner,  consisting 
of  men  of  different  political  leanings  ; among  whom  were, 
as  may  be  supposed,  many  members  of  the  Irish  bar;  the 
elder  Daly  was  too  remarkable  a person  to  be  omitted,  but 
as  the  two  brothers  resided  together,  there  was  a difficulty 
about  getting  him.  However,  he  must  be  had,  and  the  only 
alternative  that  presented  itself  was  adopted — both  were 
invited.  When  the  party  descended  to  the  dining-room,  by 
one  of  those  unfortunate  accidents,  which,  as  the  proverb 
informs  us,  occasionally  take  place  in  the  best-regulated 
establishments,  the  wrong  Mr.  Daly  got  placed  beside  Mr. 
Peel,  which  post  of  honor  had  been  destined  by  the  host  for 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*35 

the  more  agreeable  and  talented  brother.  There  was  now  no 
help  ifor  it ; and  with  a heart  somewhat  nervous  for  the  con- 
sequences of  the  proximity,  the  worthy  entertainer  sat  down 
to  do  the  honors  as  best  he  might ; he  was  consoled  during 
dinner  by  observing  that  the  devotion  bestowed  by  honest 
Denis  on  the  viands  before  him  effectually  absorbed  his 
faculties,  and  thereby  threw  the  entire  of  Mr.  PeePs  con- 
versation toward  the  gentleman  on  his  other  flank.  This 
happiness  was,  like  most  others,  destined  to  be  a brief  one. 
As  the  dessert  made  its  appearance,  Mr.  Peel  began  to 
listen  with  some  attention  to  the  conversation  of  the  per- 
sons opposite  ; with  one  of  whom  he  was  struck  most  forcibly 
— so  happy  a power  of  illustration,  so  vivid  a fancy,  such 
logical  precision  in  argument  as  he  evinced,  perfectly  charmed 
and  surprised  him.  Anxious  to  learn  the  name  of  so  gifted 
an  individual,  he  turned  toward  his  hitherto  silent  neighbor 
and  demanded  who  he  was. 

“ 4 Who  is  he,  is  it  ? ’ said  Denis,  hesitatingly,  as  if  he  half 
doubted  such  extent  of  ignorance  as  not  to  know  the  person 
alluded  to. 

44  Mr.  Peel  bowed  in  acquiescence. 

44  4 That’s  Bushe  ! ” said  Denis,  giving  at  the  same  time 
the  same  sound  to  the  vowel  u as  it  obtains  when  occurring 
in  the  word  4 rush.’ 

44  4 I beg  pardon/  said  Mr.  Peel ; 4 I did  not  hear.’ 

“ 4 Bushe  ! replied  Denis,  with  considerable  energy  of  tone. 

“ 4 Oh,  yes ! I know/  said  the  Secretary  ; 4 Mr.  Bushe,  a 
very  distinguished  member  of  your  bar,  I have  heard.’ 

44  4 Faith,  you  may  say  that!’  said  Denis  tossing  off  his 
wine  at  what  he  esteemed  a very  trite  observation. 

44  4 Pray,  said  Mr.  Peel,  again  returning  to  the  charge, 
though  certainly  feeling  not  a little  surprised  at  the  singular 
laconicism  of  his  informant,  no  less  than  the  mellifluous 
tones  of  an  accent  then  perfectly  new  to  him.  4 Pray,  may 
I ask  what  is  the  peculiar  character  of  Mr.  Bushe’s  elo- 
quence ? I mean  of  course,  in  his  professional  capacity.’ 

44  4 Eh?  ’ said  Denis,  4 1 don’t  comprehend  you  exactly.’ 

44  4 1 mean,’  said  Mr.  Peel — 4 in  one  word,  what’s  his 
forte  ? ’ 

44  4 His  forte  ? ’ 

44  4 1 mean — what  his  peculiar  gift  consists  in 3 

44  4 Oh,  I perceive — I have  ye  now — the  juries.’ 

44  4 Ah  ! addressing  a jury.’ 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ ‘ Ay,  the  juries.’ 

“ 4 Can  you  oblige  me  by  giving  me  any  idea  of  the  mannet 
in  which  he  obtains  such  signal  success  in  this  difficult 
branch  of  eloquence  ? ’ 

“‘Til  tell  ye,’  said  Denis,  leisurely  finishing  his  glass,  and 
smacking  his  lips,  with  the  air  of  a man  girding  up  his  loins 
for  a mighty  effort.  4 1?ll  tell  ye — well,  ye  see  the  way  he 
has  is  this,’ — here  Mr.  Peel’s  expectation  rose  to  the  highest 
degree  of  interest — 4 the  way  he  has  is  this — he  first  butthers 
them  up  and  then  slithers  them  down , that’s  all ; a devil  a 
more  of  a secret  there’s  in  it.’  ” 

How  much  reason  Denis  had  to  boast  of  imparting  early 
information  to  the  new  Secretary  I leave  my  English  readers 
to  guess;  my  Irish  ones  I may  trust  to  do  him  ample  justice. 
My  friend  now  left  me  to  my  own  devices  to  while  away  the 
hours  till  the  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  Heaven  help  the 
gentleman  so  left  in  Dublin,  said  I.  It  is,  perhaps,  the  only 
city  of  its  size  in  the  world,  where  there  is  no  lounge — no 
promenade.  Very  little  experience  of  it  will  convince  you 
that  it  abounds  in  pretty  women,  and  has  its  fair  share  of 
agreeable  men  ; but  where  are  they  in  the  morning  ? I wish 
Sir  Dick  Lauder,  instead  of  speculating  where  salmon  spent 
the  Christmas  holidays,  would  apply  his  most  inquiring  mind 
to  such  a question  as  this.  True  it  is,  however,  they  are  not 
to  be  found.  The  squares  are  deserted — the  streets  are 
very  nearly  so — and  all  that  is  left  to  the  luckless  wanderer 
in  search  of  the  beautiful,  is  to  ogle  the  beauties  of  Dame 
Street  who  are  shopkeepers  in  Grafton  Street,  or  the  beauties 
of  Grafton  Street  who  are  shopkeepers  in  Dame  Street. 
But,  confound  it,  how  cranky  I am  getting — I must  be  tre- 
mendously  hungry.  True,  it’s  past  six.  So  now  for  my  suit 
of  sable,  and  then  to  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DUBLIN — THE  BOARDING-HOUSE — SELECT  SOCIETY. 

Punctual  to  my  appointment  with  O’Flaherty,  I found  my- 
self a very  few  minutes  after  six  o’clock  at  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle’s 
door.  My  very  authoritative  summons  at  the  bell  was  an- 
swered by  the  appearance  of  a young,  pale-faced  invalid,  in 


BARR  Y LORREQUER . 


137 


a suit  of  livery  the  taste  of  which  bore  a very  unpleasant 
resemblance  to  the  one  I so  lately  figured  in.  It  was  with 
considerable  difficulty  I persuaded  this  functionary  to  permit 
my  carrying  my  hat  with  me  to  the  drawing-room,  a species 
of  caution  on  my  part — as  he  esteemed  it — savoring  much  of 
distrust.  This  point,  however,  I carried,  and  followed  him 
up  a very  ill-lighted  stair  to  the  drawing-room  ; here  I was 
announced  by  some  faint  resemblance  to  my  real  name,  but 
sufficiently  near  to  bring  my  friend  Tom  at  once  to  meet  me, 
who  immediately  congratulated  me  on  my  fortune  in  coming 
off  so  well,  for  that  the  person  who  preceded  me,  Mr.  Jones 
Blennerhasset,  had  been  just  announced  as  Mr.  Blatherhasbit 
— a change  the  gentleman  himself  was  not  disposed  to  adopt. 
“ But  come  along,  Harry,  while  we  are  waiting  for  Daly,  let 
me  make  you  known  to  some  of  our  party : this,  you  must 
know,  is  a boarding-house,  and  always  has  some  capital  fun — 
queerest  people  you  ever  met — I have  only  one  hint — cut 
every  man,  woman,  and  child  of  them,  if  you  meet  them  here- 
after— I do  it  myself,  though  I have  lived  here  these  six 
months.”  Pleasant  people,  thought  I,  these  must  be,  with 
whom  such  a line  is  advisable,  much  less  practicable. 

“ Mrs.  Clanfrizzle,  my  friend  Mr.  Lorrequer  thinks  he’ll 

stay  the  summer  in  town.  Mrs.  Clan , should  like 

him  to  be  one  of  us.”  This  latter  was  said  sotto  voce , and  was  a 
practice  he  continued  to  adopt  in  presenting  me  to  his  several 
friends  through  the  room. 

Miss  Riley,  a horrid  old  fright,  in  a bird  of  paradise 
plume,  and  corked  eyebrows,  gibbeted  in  gilt  chains  and 
pearl  ornaments,  and  looking,  as  the  grisettes  say,  “ superb 
en chrysolite” — Miss  Riley,  Captain  Lorrequer,  a friend  I have 
long  desired  to  present  to  you— fifteen  thousand  a year  and 
a baronetcy,  if  he  has  sixpence,”  sotto  again.  “ Surgeon 
M’Culloch — he  likes  the  title,”  said  Tom,  in  a whisper — “ Sur- 
geon, Captain  Lorrequer.  By  the  by,  lest  I forget  it,  he 
wishes  to  speak  to  you  in  the  morning  about  his  health ; he 
is  stopping  at  Sandymouth  for  the  baths  ; you  could  go  out 
there,  eh  ? ” The  tall  thing  in  green  spectacles  bowed,  and 
acknowledged  Tom’s  kindness  by  a knowing  touch  of  the 
elbow.  In  this  way  he  made  the  tour  of  the  room  for  about 
ten  minutes,  during  which  brief  space,  I was,  according  to  the 
kind  arrangements  of  O’Flaherty,  booked  as  a resident  in 
the  boarding-house — a lover  to  at  least  five  elderly,  and  tifcree 
young  ladies — a patient — a client — a second  in  a duel  to  a 


HARRY  LORRE QUER . 


138 

clerk  in  the  Post-office — and  had  also  volunteered  (through 
him  always)  to  convey,  by  all  his  Majesty’s  mails,  as  many 
parcels,  packets,  band-boxes,  and  bird-cages  as  would  have 
comfortably  filled  one  of  Pickford’s  vans.  All  this  he  told 
me  was  requisite  of  my  being  well  received,  though  no  one 
thought  much  of  any  breach  of  compact,  subsequently,  except 

Mrs.  Clan herself.  The  ladies  had,  alas ! been  often 

treated  vilely  before  ; the  doctor  had  never  had  a patient ; 
and  as  for  the  belligerent  knight  , of  the  dead  office,  he’d 
rather  die  than  fight  any  day. 

The  last  person  to  whom  my  friend  deemed  it  necessary 
to  introduce  me,  was  a Mr.  Garret  Cudmore,  from  the 
Reeks  of  Kerry,  lately  matriculated  to  all  the  honors  of  free- 
manship  in  the  Dublin  university.  This  latter  was  a low- 
sized, dark-browed  man,  with  round  shoulders,  and  partic- 
ularly long  arms,  the  disposal  of  which  seemed  sadly  to  dis- 
tress him.  He  possessed  the  most  perfect  brogue  I ever 
listened  to ; but  it  was  difficult  to  get  him  to  speak,  for  on 
coming  up  to  town  some  weeks  before,  he  had  been  placed 
by  some  intelligent  friend  at  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle’s  establish- 
ment, with  the  express  direction  to  mark  and  thoroughly 
digest  as  much  as  he  could  of  the  habits  and  customs  of  the 
circle  about  him,  which  he  was  rightly  informed  was  the 
very  focus  of  good  breeding  and  haut  ton  ; but  on  no  account, 
unless  driven  thereto  by  the  pressure  of  sickness,  or  the 
wants  of  nature,  to  trust  himself  with  speech,  which  in  his 
thin  uninformed  state,  he  was  assured  would  inevitably  ruin 
him  among  his  fastidiously  cultivated  associates. 

To  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  dispatch  he  had  re- 
ceived, the  worthy  Garret  acted  rigidly,  and  his  voice  was 
scarcely  ever  known  to  transgress  the  narrow  limits  pre- 
scribed by  his  friends.  In  more  respects  than  one  was  this  a 
good  resolve ; for  so  completely  had  he  identified  himself 
with  college  habits,  things,  and  phrases,  that  whenever  he 
conversed,  he  became  little  short  of  unintelligible  to  the 
vulgar — a difficulty  not  decreased  by  his  peculiar  pronun- 
ciation. 

My  round  of  presentation  was  just  completed,  when  the 
pale  figure  in  light  blue  livery  announced  Counsellor  Daly 
and  dinner,  for  both  came  fortunately  together.  Taking  the 
post  of  honor,  Miss  Riley’s  arm,  I followed  Tom,  whom  I 
soon  perceived  ruled  the  whole  concern,  as  he  led  the  way 
with  another  ancient  vestal  in  black  satin  and  bugles.  The 


IIARRY  LORREQUER . 


*39 


long  procession  wound  its  snake-like  length  down  the  narrow 
stair,  and  into  the  dining-room,  where  at  last  we  all  got 
seated  ; and  here  let  me  briefly  vindicate  the  motives  of  my 
friend — should  any  unkind  person  be  found  to  impute  to  his 
selection  of  a residence  any  base  and  grovelling  passion  for 
gourmandais,  that  day’s  experience  should  be  an  eternal 
vindication  of  him.  The  soup — alas ! that  I should  so  far 
prostitute  the  word  ; for  the  black  broth  of  Sparta  was  mock 
turtle  in  comparison — retired  to  make  way  for  a mass  of  beef, 
whose  tenderness  I did  not  question  ; for  it  sank  beneath  the 
knife  of  the  carver  like  a feather-bed — the  skill  of  Saladin 
himself  would  have  failed  to  divide  it.  The  fish  was  a most 
rebellious  pike,  and  nearly  killed  every  loyal  subject  at  table  ; 
and  then  down  the  sides  were  various  comestibles  of  chickens, 
with  azure  bosoms,  and  hams  with  hides  like  a rhinoceros  ; 
covered  dishes  of  decomposed  vegetable  matter,  called 
spinach  and  cabbage  ; potatoes  arrayed  in  small  masses, 
and  browned,  resembling  those  ingenious  architectural  struct- 
ures of  mud  children  raise  in  the  highways,  and  call  dirt-pies. 
Such  were  the  chief  constituents  of  the  “ feed ; ” and  such,  I 
am  bound  to  confess,  waxed  beautifully  less  under  the  vigor- 
ous onslaught  of  the  party. 

The  conversation  soon  became  both  loud  and  general. 
That  happy  familiarity — which  I had  long  believed  to  be  the 
exclusive  prerogative  of  a military  mess,  where  constant  daily 
association  sustains  the  interest  of  the  veriest  trifles — I here 
found  in  a perfection  I had  not  anticipated,  with  this  striking 
difference  that  there  was  no  absurd  deference  to  any  existing 
code  of  etiquette  in  the  conduct  of  the  party  generally,  each 
person  quizzing  his  neighbor  in  the  most  free  and  easy  style 
imaginable,  and  all,  evidently  from  long  habit  and  conventional 
usage,  seeming  to  enjoy  the  practice  exceedingly.  Thus, 
droll  allusions,  good  stories,  and  smart  repartees  fell  thick 
as  hail,  and  twice  as  harmless,  which  anywhere  else  that  I 
had  ever  heard  of  would  assuredly  have  called  for  more 
explanations,  and  perhaps  gunpowder,  in  the  morning,  than 
usually  are  deemed  agreeable  ! Here,  however,  they  know 
better  ; and,  though  the  lawyer  quizzed  the  doctor  for  never 
having  another  patient  than  the  house  dog,  all  of  whose 
arteries  he  had  tied  in  the  course  of  the  winter  for  practice — 
and  the  doctor  retorted  as  heavily,  by  showing  that  the  law- 
yer’s practice  had  been  other  than  beneficial  to  those  for 
whom  he  was  concerned — his  one  client  being  found  guilty, 


140 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


mainly  through  his  ingenious  defence  of  him  ; yet  they  never 
showed  any,  the  slightest  irritation — on  the  contrary,  such 
little  playful  badinage  ever  led  to  some  friendly  passages  of 
taking  wine  together,  or  in  arrangements  for  a party  to  the 
“ Dargle  ” or  “ Dunleary ; ” and  thus  went  on  the  entire  party, 
the  young  ladies  darting  an  occasional  slight  at  their  elders, 
who  certainly  returned  the  fire,  often  with  advantage  ; all 
uniting  now  and  then,  however,  in  one  common  cause,  an 
attack  of  the  whole  line  upon  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle  herself,  for  the 
beef,  or  the  mutton,  or  the  fish,  or  the  poultry,  each  of  which 
was  sure  to  find  some  sturdy  defamer  ready  and  willing  to 
give  evidence  in  dispraise.  Yet  even  these — and  I thought 
them  rather  dangerous  sallies — led  to  no  more  violent  results 
than  dignified  replies  from  the  worthy  hostess  upon  the  good' 
ness  of  her  fare,  and  the  evident  satisfaction  it  afforded  while 
being  eaten,  if  the  appetites  of  the  party  were  a test.  While 
this  was  at  its  height,  Tom  stooped  behind  my  chair,  and 
whispered  gently  : 

“ This  is  good — isn’t  it,  eh  ? — life  in  a boarding-house  quite 
new  to  you ; but  they  are  civilized  now  compared  to  what 
you’ll  find  them  in  the  drawing-room.  * When  short  whist  for 
fivepenny  points  sets  in — then  Greek  meets  Greek,  and  we’ll 
have  it.” 

During  all  this  melee  tournament,  I perceived  that  the 
worthy  jib,  as  he  would  be  called  in  tlfe  parlance  of  Trinity, 
Mr.  Cudmore,  remained  perfectly  silent,  and  apparently 
terrified.  The  noise,  the  din  of  voices,  and  the  laughing  so 
completely  addled  him,  that  he  was  like  one  in  a very  horrid 
dream.  The  attention  with  which  I had  observed  him, 
having  been  remarked  by  my  friend  O’ Flaherty,  he  informed 
me  that  the  scholar,  as  he  was  called  there,  was  then  under 
a kind  of  cloud — an  adventure  which  occurred  only  two  nights 
before  being  too  fresh  in  his  memory  to  permit  him  enjoying 
himself  even  to  the  limited  extent  it  had  been  his  wont  to  do, 
As  illustrative,  not  only  of  Mr.  Cudmore,  but  the  life  I have 
been  speaking  of,  I may  as  well  relate  it. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Cudmore’s  enlistment  under  the  banners 
of  the  Clanfrizzle,  he  had  sought  and  found  an  asylum  in  the 
drawing-room  of  the  establishment,  which  promised,  from  its 
geographical  relations,  to  expose  him  less  to  the  molestations 
of  conversation  than  most  other  parts  of  the  room.  This  was 
a small  recess  beside  the  fireplace,  not  uncommon  in  old-fash- 
ioned houses,  and  which  from  its  incapacity  to  hold  more 


BARR  V L ORREQ  UER . 


Hi 

than  one,  secured  to  the  worthy  recluse  the  privacy  he  longed 
for,  and  here,  among  superannuated  hearth-brushes,  an  old 
hand-screen,  an  asthmatic  bellows,  and  a kettle-holder,  sat 
the  timid  youth,  “ alone,  but  in  a crowd.”  Not  all  the 
seductions  of  loo,  limited  to  threepence — not  even  that 
most  appropriately  designated  game,  beggar-my-neighbor — 
could  withdraw  him  from  his  blest  retreat.  Like  his  country- 
man, St.  Kevin — my  friend  Petrie  has  ascertained  that  the 
saint  was  a native  of  Tralee — he  fled  from  the  temptations 
of  the  world,  and  the  blandishments  of  the  fair  ; but  alas  ! 
like  the  saint  himself,  the 

“poor  jib  little  knew 
All  that  wily  sex  can  do ; ” 

for  while  he  hugged  himself  in  the  security  of  his  fortress,  the 
web  of  his  destiny  was  weaving.  So  true  is  it,  as  he  himself 
used,  no  less  pathetically  than  poetically,  to  express  it,  “ mis- 
fortune will  find  you  out  if  you  were  hid  in  a tay  chest.” 

It  happened  that  in  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle’s  establishment  the 
“ enfant  bleu,”  already  mentioned,  was  the  only  individual 
of  his  sex  retained ; and  without  for  a moment  disparaging 
the  ability  or  attentions  of  this  gifted  person,  yet  it  may 
reasonably  be  credited,  that  in  waiting  on  a party  of  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  persons  at  dinner,  all  of  whom  he  had  admitted 
as  porter,  and  announced  as  maitre  d’hotel,  with  the  subse- 
quent detail  of  his  duties  in  the  drawing-room,  that  Peter, 
blue  Peter — his  boarding-house  soubriquet — not  enjoying  the 
bird-like  privilege  of  “ being  in  two  places  at  once,”  gave 
one  rather  the  impression  of  a person  of  hasty  and  fidgety 
habits — for  which  nervous  tendency  the  tn&atment  he  under- 
went was  certainly  injudicious — ^it  being  the  invariable  custom 
for  each  guest  to  put  his  services  in  requisition,  perfectly 
irrespective  of  all  other  claims  upon  him,  from  whatsoever 
quarter  coming — and  then  at  the  precise  moment  that  the 
luckless  valet  was  snuffing  the  candles,  he  was  abused  by 
one  for  not  bringing  coal ; by  another  for  having  carried  oft 
his  tea-cup,  on  an  expedition  for  sugar ; by  a third  for  hav- 
ing left  the  door  open  which  he  had  never  been  near ; and 
so  on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

It  chanced  that  a few  evenings  previous  to  my  appear- 
ance at  the  house,  this  indefatigable  Caleb  was  ministering 
as  usual  to  the  various  and  discrepant  wants  of  the  large 
party  assembled  in  the  drawing-room.  With  his  wonted 


142  HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 

alacrity  he  had  withdrawn,  from  their  obscure  retreat  against 
the  wall,  sundry  little  tables,  destined  for  the  players  at 
whist,  or  “ spoil  five  ” — the  popular  game  of  the  establish- 
ment. With  a dexterity  that  savored  much  of  a stage  edu- 
cation, he  had  arranged  the  candles,  the  cards,  the  coun- 
ters ; he  had  poked  the  fire,  settled  the  stool  for  Miss  Riley’s 
august  feet,  and  was  busily  engaged  in  changing  five  shillings 
into  small  silver,  for  a desperate  victim  of  loo — when  Mrs. 
Clanfrizzle’s  third,  and,  as  it  appeared,  last  time,  of  asking 
for  the  kettle  smote  upon  his  ear.  His  loyalty  would  have 
induced  him  at  once  to  desert  everything  on  such  an  occa- 
sion ; but  the  other  party  engaged  held  him  fast,  saying  : 

“ Never  mind  her , Peter — you  have  sixpence  more  to  give 
me.” 

Poor  Peter  rummaged  one  pocket,  then  another — discover- 
ing at  last  threepence  in  copper  and  some  farthings,  wfith 
which  he  seemed  endeavoring  to  make  a composition  with 
his  creditor  for  twelve  shillings  in  the  pound  ; when  Mrs. 
Clan’s  patience  finally  becoming  exhausted,  she  turned 
toward  Mr.  Cudmore,  the  only  unemployed  person  she  could 
perceive,  and  with  her  blandest  smile  said  : 

“ Mr.  Cudmore,  may  I take  the  liberty  of  requesting  you 
would  hand  me  the  kettle  beside  you  ? ” 

Now,  though  the  kettle  aforesaid  was,  as  the  hostess  very 
properly  observed,  beside  him,  yet  the  fact  that  in  comply- 
ing with  the  demand  it  was  necessary  for  the  bashful  youth 
to  leave  the  recess  he  occupied,  and  with  the  kettle  proceed 
to  walk  half  across  the  room — there  to  perform  certain 
manual  operations  requiring  skill  and  presence  of  mind, 
before  a large  ^fid  crowded  assembly — was  horror  to  the 
mind  of  the  poor  Jib ; and  he  Would  nearly  as  soon  have 
acceded  to  a desire  to  dance  a hornpipe,  if  such  had  been 
suggested  as  the  wish  of  the  company.  However,  there  was 
nothing  for  it ; and  summoning  up  all  his  nerve — knitting  his 
brows — clinching  his  teeth  like  one  prepared  to  “ do  or  die,” 
he  seized  the  hissing  caldron,  and  strode  through  the  room, 
like  the  personified  genius  of  steam,  very  much  to  the  alarm 
of  all  the  old  ladies  in  the  vicinity,  whose  tasteful  drapery 
benefited  but  little  from  his  progress.  Yet  he  felt  but  little 
of  all  this  ; he  had  brought  up  his  courage  to  the  sticking 
place,  and  he  was  absolutely  half  unconscious  of  the  whole 
scene  before  him  ; nor  was  it  till  some  kind  mediator  had 
seized  his  arm,  while  another  drew  him  back  by  the  skirts  of 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


143 


the  coat,  that  he  desisted  from  the  deluge  of  hot  water,  with 
which,  having  filled  the  tea-pot,  he  proceeded  to  swamp 
everything  else  upon  the  tray,  in  his  unfortunate  abstraction. 
Mrs.  Clanfrizzle  screamed — the  old  ladies  accompanied 
her — the  young  ones  tittered — the  men  laughed — and,  in  a 
word,  poor  Cudmore,  perfectly  unconscious  of  anything 
extraordinary,  felt  himself  the  admired  of  all  admirers — very 
little,  it  is  true,  to  his  own  satisfaction.  After  some  minutes’ 
exposure  to  these  eclats  de  rire , he  succeeded  in  depositing 
the  source  of  his  griefs  within  the  fender,  and  once  more  re- 
tired to  his  sanctuary — having  registered  a vow  which,  should 
[ speak  it,  would  forfeit  his  every  claim  to  gallantry  forever. 

Whether  in  the  vow  aforesaid  Mr.  Cudmore  had  only  been 
engaged  in  that  species  of  tesselating  which  furnishes  the 
pavement  so  celebrated  in  the  lower  regions,  I know  not ; but 
true  it  is,  that  he  retired  that  night  to  his  chamber  very 
much  discomfited  at  his  debut  in  the  great  world,  and  half 
disposed  to  believe  that  nature  had  neither  intended  him  for 
a Brummel  nor  a D’Orsay.  While  he  was  ruminating  on 
such  matters,  he  was  joined  by  O’Flaherty,  with  whom  he 
had  been  always  more  intimate  than  any  other  inmate  of  the 
house — Tom’s  tact  having  entirely  concealed  what  the  man- 
ners of  the  others  too  plainly  evinced,  the  perfect  appreciation 
of  the  student’s  oddity  and  singularity.  After  some  few 
observations  on  general  matters,  O’Flaherty  began  with  a 
tone  of  some  seriousness  to  express  toward  Cudmore  the 
warm  interest  he  had  'ever  taken  in  him,  since  his  first 
coming  among  them  ; his  . great  anxiety  for  his  welfare,  and 
his  firm  resolve  that  no  chance  or  casual  inattention  to  mere 
ceremonial  observances  on  his  part  should  ever  be  seized  on 
by  the  other  guest  as  a ground  for  detraction  or  an  excuse 
for  ridicule  of  him. 

“ Rely  upon  it,  my  dear  boy,”  said  he,  “ I have  watched 
over  you  like  a parent ; and  having  partly  foreseen  that 
something  like  this  affair  of  to-night  would  take  place  sooner 
or  later ” 

“What  affair  ? ” said  Cudmore,  his  eyes  starting  half  out 
of  his  head. 

“ That  business  of  the  kettle.” 

“ Kett — el.  The  kettle  ! What  of  that  ? ” said  Cudmore. 

“ What  of  it  ? Why,  if  you  don’t  feel  it,  I am  sure  it  is  not 
my  duty  to  remind  you  ; only ” 


1 44  HARR  Y L OR  RE  Q C/E  R . 

“ Feel  it — oh,  yes.  I saw  them  laughing,  because  I spilled 
the  water  over  old  Mrs.  Jones,  or  something  of  that  sort.” 

“ No,  no,  my  dear  young  friend,  they  were  not  laughing  at 
that — their  mirth  had  another  object.” 

“ What  the  devil  was  it  at,  then  ? ” 

“ You  don’t  know,  don’t  you  ? ” 

“ No  ; I really  do  not.” 

“ Nor  can’t  guess — eh  ? ” 

“ Confound  me  if  I can.” 

“Well,  I see,  Mr.  Cudmore,  you  are  really  too  innocent 
for  these  people.  But  come — it  shall  never  be  said  that 
youth  and  inexperience  ever  suffered  from  the  unworthy 
ridicule  and  cold  sarcasm  of  the  base  world,  while  Tom 
O’Flaherty  stood  by  a spectator. 

“ Sir,”  said  Tom,  striking  his  hand  with  energy,  on  the 
table,  and  darting  a look  of  fiery  indignation  from  his  eye, 
“ sir,  you  were  this  night  trepanned — yes,  sir,  vilely,  shame- 
fully trepanned — I repeat  the  expression — into  the  perform- 
ance of  a menial  office — an  office  so  degrading,  so  offensive, 
so  unbecoming  the  rank,  the  station,  and  the  habits  of  a gen- 
tleman, my  very  blood  recoils  when  I only  think  of  the  indig- 
nity.” 

The  expression  of  increasing  wonder  and  surprise  depicted 
in  Mr.  Cudmore’s  face  at  these  words,  my  friend  Phiz  might 
convey — I cannot  venture  to  describe  it — suffice  it  to  say, 
that  even  O’Flaherty  himself  found  it  difficult  to  avoid  a 
burst  of  laughter,  as  he  looked  at  him  and  resumed  : 

“ Witnessing,  as  I did,  the  entire  occurrence ; feeling 
deeply  for  the  inexperience  which  the  heartless  worldlings 
had  dared  to  trample  upon,  I resolved  to  stand  by  you,  and 
here  I am  come  for  that  purpose.” 

“ Well,  but  what  in  the  devil’s  name  have  1 done  all  this 
time  ? ” 

“ What ! are  you  still  ignorant  ? — is  it  possible  ? Did  you 
not  hand  the  kettle  from  the  fireplace,  and  fill  the  teapot  ? 
• — answer  me  that.” 

“ I did,”  said  Cudmore,  with  a voice  already  becoming 
tremulous. 

“ Is  that  the  duty  of  a gentleman  ? — answer  me  that.” 

A dead  pause  stood  in  place  of  a reply,  while  Tom  pro- 
ceeded : 

“ Did  you  ever  hear  any  one  ask  me,  or  Counsellor  Daly, 


HARR  Y L ORREQ UER.  1 45 

or  Mr.  Fogarty,  or  any  other  person  to  do  so  ? — answer  me 
that.7' 

“ No,  never,77  muttered  Cudmore,  with  a sinking  spirit. 

“Well,  then,  why,  may  I ask,  were  you  selected  for  an 
office  that,  by  your  own  confession,  no  one  else  would  stoop 
to  perform  ? I’ll  tell  you,  because,  from  your  youth  and  in- 
experience, your  innocence  was  deemed  a fit  victim  to  the 
heartless  sneers  of  a cold  and  unfeeling  world.77  And  here 
Tom  broke  forth  into  a very  beautiful  apostrophe,  beginning, 
“ Oh,  virtue  ! 77  (this  I am  unfortunately  unable  to  present  to 
my  readers ; and  must  only  assure  them  that  it  was  a very 
faithful  imitation  of  the  well-known  one  delivered  by  Burke  in 
the  case  of  Warren  Hastings),  and  concluded  with  an  ex- 
hortation to  Cudmore  to  wipe  out  the  stain  of  his  wounded 
honor,  by  repelling  with  indignation  the  slightest  future 
attempt  at  such  an  insult. 

This  done,  O’Flaherty  retired,  leaving  Cudmore  to  dig 
among  Greek  roots,  and  chew  over  the  cud  of  his  misfor- 
tunes. Punctual  to  the  time  and  place,  that  same  evening 
beheld  the  injured  Cudmore  resume  his  wonted  corner, 
pretty  much  with  the  feelings  with  which  a forlorn  hope 
stands  match  in  hand  to  ignite  the  train  destined  to  explode 
with  ruin  to  thousands — himself  perhaps  among  the  number ; 
there  he  sat  with  a brain  as  burning  and  a heart  as  excited 
as  though,  instead  of  sipping  his  bohea  beside  a sea-coal 
fire,  he  was  that  instant  trembling  beneath  the  frown  of  Dr. 
Elrington  for  the  blunders  in  his  Latin  theme,  and  what  ter- 
ror to  the  mind  of  a “ Jib  77  can  equal  that  one  ? 

As  luck  would  have  it,  this  was  a company  night  in  the 
boarding-house.  Various  young  ladies  in  long  blue  sashes, 
and  very  broad  ribbon  sandals,  paraded  the  rooms,  chatting 
gayly  with  very  distinguished-looking  young  gentlemen,  with 
gold  brooches  and  parti-colored  inside  waistcoats  : sundry 
elderly  ladies  sat  at  card-tables,  discussing  the  “ lost  honor 
by  an  odd  trick  they  played,77  spruce  clerks  in  public  offices 
(whose  vocation  the  expansive  tendency  of  the  right  ear, 
from  long  pen-carrying,  betokened)  discussed  fashion,  “ and 
the  musical  glasses 77  to  some  very  over-dressed  married  ladies, 
who  preferred  flirting  to  five-and-ten.  The  tea-table,  over 
which  the  amiable  hostess  presided,  had  also  its  standing 
votaries : mostly  grave  parliamentary-looking  gentlemen,  with 
powdered  heads  and  very  long-waisted  black  coats,  among 
whom  the  Sir  Oracle  was  a functionary  of  his  Majesty’s 


146 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


High  Court  of  Chancery,  though  I have  reason  to  believe, 
not  Lord  Manners  ; meanwhile,  in  all  parts  of  the  room  might 
be  seen  Blue  Peter,  distributing  tea,  coffee,  and  biscuit,  and 
occasionally  interchanging  a joke  with  the  dwellers  in  the 
house.  White  all  these  pleasing  occupations  proceeded,  the 
hour  of  Cudmore’s  trial  was  approaching.  The  tea-pot,  which 
had  stood  the  attack  of  fourteen  cups  without  flinching,  at 
last  began  to  fail,  and  discovered  to  the  prying  eyes  6f  Mrs. 
Clanfrizzle  nothing  but  an  olive-colored  deposit  of  soft  mat- 
ter closely  analogous  in  appearance  and  chemical  property 
to  the  residuary  precipitate  in  a drained  fish-pond ; she  put 
down  the  lid  with  a gentle  sigh,  and  turning  towards  the  fire, 
bestowed  one  of  her  very  blandest  and  most  captivating  looks 
on  Mr.  Cudmore,  saying — as  plainly  as  looks  could  say — * 
“ Cudmore,  you’re  wanted.  ” Whether  the  youth  did  or  did 
not  understand  I am  unable  to  record : I can  only  say,  the 
appeal  was  made  without  acknowledgment.  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle 
again  essayed,  and  by  a little  masonic  movement  of  her  hand 
to  the  tea-pot,  and  a sly  glance  at  the  hub,  intimated  her  wish 
— still  hopelessly ; at  last  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  speak- 
ing ; and  she  donned  her  very  softest  voice  and  most  per- 
suasive tone,  saying,  “ Mr.  Cudmore,  I am  really  very 
troublesome : will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you ” 

“ Is  it  for  the  kettle,  ma’am  ? ” said  Cudmore,  with  a voice 
that  startled  the  whole  room,  disconcerting  three  whist  par- 
ties, and  so  absorbing  the  attention  of  the  people  at  loo,  that 
the  pool  disappeared  without  any  one  being  able  to  account 
for  the  circumstance. 

“ Is  it  for  the  kettle,  ma’am  ? ” 

“ If  you  will  be  so  very  kind,”  lisped  the  hostess. 

“ Well,  then,  upon  my  conscience,  you  are  impudent,”  said 
Cudmore,  with  his  face  crimsoned  to  the  ears  and  his  eyes 
flashing  fire. 

“ Why,  Mr.  Cudmore,”  began  the  lady,  “ why,  really  this 
:s  so  strange.  Why,  sir,  what  can  you  mean  ? ” 

“ Just  that”  said  the  imperturbable  Jib,  who,  now  that  his 
courage  was  up,  dared  everything. 

“ But,  sir,  you  must  surely  have  misunderstood  me.  I only 
asked  for  the  kettle,  Mr.  Cudmore.” 

“The  devil  a more,”  said  Cud,  with  a sneer. 

“ Well,  then,  of  course ” 

“ Well,  then,  I’ll  tell  you,  of  course,”  said  he,  repeating  her 
Words  ; “ the  sorrow  taste  of  the  kettle  I’ll  give  you.  Call 


HARRY  EORREQUER.  147 

your  own  skip — Blue  Pether  there — damn  me,  if  I’ll  be  your 
skip  any  longer.” 

For  the  uninitiated  I have  only  to  add,  that,  “ skip  ” is  the 
Trinity  College  appellation  for  servant,  which  was  therefore 
employed  by  Mr.  Cudmore  on  this  occasion,  as  expressing 
more  contemptuously  his  sense  of  the  degradation  of  the 
office  attempted  to  be  put  upon  him.  Having  already  in- 
formed my  reader  on  some  particulars  of  the  company,  I 
leave  him  to  suppose  how  Mr.  Cudmore’s  speech  was  re- 
ceived. Whist  itself  was  at  an  end  for  that  evening,  and 
nothing  but  laughter,  long,  loud,  and  reiterated,  burst  from 
every  corner  of  the  room  for  hours  after. 

As  I have  so  far  travelled  out  of  the  record  of  my  own  pe- 
culiar confessions  as  to  give  a leaf  from  what  might  one  day 
form  the  matter  of  Mr.  Cudmore’s,  I must  now  make  the 
only  amende  in  my  power,  by  honestly  narrating  that,  short 
as  my  visit  was  to  the  classic  precincts  of  this  agreeable 
establishment,  I did  not  escape  without  exciting  my  share  of 
ridicule,  though  I certainly  had  not  the  worst  of  the  joke, 
and  may,  therefore,  with  better  grace,  tell  the  story,  which, 
happily  for  my  readers,  is  a very  brief  one.  A custom  pre- 
vailed in  Mrs.  Clanfrizzle’s  household,  which,  from  my  un- 
happy ignorance  of  boarding-houses,  I am  unable  to  predi- 
cate if  it  belong  to  the  general  at  large,  or  this  one  specimen 
in  particular  : however,  it  is  a sufficiently  curious  fact,  even 
though  thereby  hang  no  tale,  for  my  stating  it  here.  The 
decanters  on  the  dinner-table  were  never  labelled,  with  their 
more  appropriate  designation  of  contents,  whether  claret, 
sherry,  or  port,  but  with  the  names  of  their  respective  owners, 
it  being  a matter  of  much  less  consequence  that  any  individ- 
ual at  table  should  mix  his  wine,  by  pouring  “ port  upon 
madeira,”  than  commit  the  truly  legal  offence  of  appropriating 
to  his  own  use  and  benefit,  even  by  mistake,  his  neighbor’s 
bottle.  However  well  the  system  may  work  among  the 
regular  members  of  the  “ domestic  circle  ” — and  I am  assured 
that  it  does  succeed  extremely — to  the  newly  arrived  guest, 
or  uninitiated  visitor,  the  affair  is  perplexing,  and  leads  oc- 
casionally to  awkward  results. 

It  so  chanced  from  my  friend  O’Flaherty’s  habitual  posi- 
tion at  the  foot  of  the  table,  and  my  post  of  honor  near  the 
head,  that  on  the  first  day  of  my  appearing  there  the  distance 
between  us  not  only  precluded  all  possible  intercourse,  but 
any  of  those  gentle  hints  as  to  habits  and  customs,  a new 


HARRY  LORREQUER* 


arrival  looks  for  at  the  hands  of  his  better  informed  friend 
The  only  mode  of  recognition,  to  prove  that  we  belonged  to 
each  other,  being  by  that  excellent  and  truly  English  custom 
of  drinking  wine  together,  Tom  seized  the  first  idle  moment 
from  his  avocation  as  carver,  to  say  : 

“ Lorrequer,  a glass  of  wine  with  you.” 

Having,  of  course,  acceded,  he  again  asked, 

“ What  wine  do  you  drink  ? ” intending  thereby,  as  I after- 
ward learned,  to  send  me,  from  his  end  of  the  table  what 
wine  I selected.  Not  conceiving  the  object  of  the  inquiry, 
and  having  hitherto  without  hesitation  helped  myself  from 
the  decanter  which  bore  some  faint  resemblance  to  sherry,  I 
immediately  turned  for  correct  information  to  the  bottle  itself, 
upon  whose  slender  neck  was  ticketed  the  usual  slip  of 
paper.  My  endeavor  to  decipher  the  writing  occupied  time 
sufficient  again  to  make  O’Flaherty  ask  : 

“ Well,  Harry,  I’m  waiting  for  you.  Will  you  have  port  ? ” 

“ No,  I thank  you,”  I replied,  having  by  this  revealed  the 
inscription.  “No,  I thank  you.  I’ll  just  stick  to  my  old 
friend  here,  Bob  M’Grotty ; ” for  thus  I rendered  familiarly 
the  name  of  Rt.  M’Grotty  on  the  decanter,  and  which  I in 
my  ignorance  believe  to  be  the  boarding-house  sobriquet  for 
bad  sherry.  That  Mr.  M’Grotty  himself  little  relished  my 
familiarity  with  either  his  name  or  property  I had  a very  de- 
cisive proof,  for,  turning  round  upon  his  chair,  and  surveying 
my  person  from  head  to  foot  with  a look  of  fiery  wrath,  he 
thundered  out  in  very  broad  Scotch  : 

“ And  by  my  saul,  my  freend,  ye  may  just  as  weel  finish  it 
noo,  for  deil  a glass  o’  his  ain  wine  did  Bob  M’Grotty,  as  ye 
ca’  him,  swallow  this  day.” 

The  convulsion  of  laughter  into  which  my  blunder  and  the 
Scotchman’s  passion  threw  the  whole  board  lasted  till  the 
cloth  was  withdrawn  and  the  ladies  had  retired  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, the  only  individual  at  table  not  relishing  the  mis- 
take being  the  injured  proprietor  of  the  bottle,  who  was  too 
proud  to  accept  reparation  from  my  friend’s  decanter,  and 
would  scarcely  condescend  to  open  his  lips  during  the  even- 
ing ; notwithstanding  which  display  of  honest  indignation,  we 
contrived  to  become  exceedingly  merry  and  jocose,  most  of 
the  party  communicating  little  episodes  of  their  life,  in  which, 
it  is  true,  they  frequently  figured  in  situations  that  nothing 
but  their  native  and  natural  candor  would  venture  to  avow. 
One  story  I was  considerably  amused  at ; it  was  told  by  the 


HARRY  LORREQVRR: 


1 49 

Counsellor,  Mr.  Daly,  in  illustration  of  the  difficulty  of  rising 
at  the  bar,  and  which,  as  showing  his  own  mode  of  obviating 
the  delay  that  young  professional  men  submit  to  from  hard 
necessity,  as  well  as  in  evidence  of  his  strictly  legal  turn,  I 
shall  certainly  recount,  one  of  these  days,  for  the  edification 
of  the  junior  bar. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CHASE. 

On  the  morning  after  my  visit  to  the  boarding-house,  I 
received  a few  hurried  lines  from  Curzon,  informing  me  that 
no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  joining  the  regiment — that  a grand 
fancy  ball  was  about  to  be  given  by  the  officers  of  the  Dwarf 
frigate,  then  stationed  off  Dunmore  ; who,  when  inviting  the 

, specially  put  in  a demand  for  my  well-known  services 

to  make  it  go  off,  and  concluding  with  an  extract  from  the 
Kilkenny  Moderator , which  ran  thus  : “ An  intimation  has 

just  reached  us,  from  a quarter  on  which  we  can  place  the 
fullest  reliance,  that  the  celebrated  amateur  performer,  Mr. 
Lorrequer,  may  shortly  be  expected  amongst  us ; from  the 
many  accounts  we  have  received  of  this  highly-gifted  gentle- 
man’s powers,  we  anticipate  a great  treat  to  the  lovers  of  the 
drama,”  etc.,  etc.  “ So  you  see,  my  dear  Hal,”  continued 
Curzon,  “ thy  vocation  calls  thee  ; therefore  come,  and  come 
quickly — provide  thyself  with  a black  satin  costume,  slashed 
with  light  blue — point  lace  collar,  and  ruffles — a Spanish 
hat  looped  in  front — and,  if  possible,  a long  rapier,  with  a 
flat  hilt.  Carden  is  not  here ; so  you  can  show  your  face 
under  any  color  with  perfect  impunity.  Yours  from  the  side 
scenes, 

“ C.  Curzon.” 

This  clever  epistle  sufficed  to  show  me  that  the  gallant 
— th  had  gone  clean  theatrical  mad  ; and  although  from  my 
“last  appearance  on  any  stage,”  it  might  be  supposed  I 
should  feel  no  peculiar  desire  to  repeat  the  experiment,  yet 
the  opportunity  of  joining  during  Colonel  Carden’s  absence 
was  too  tempting  to  resist,  and  I at  once  made  up  my  mind 
to  set  out,  and  without  a moment’s  delay  hurried  across  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


/ 


street  to  the  coach  office,  to  book  myself  an  inside  in  the  mail 
of  that  night ; fortunately  no  difficulty  existed  in  my  securing 
a seat,  for  the  way-bill  was  a perfect  blank,  and  I found  my- 
self the  only  person  who  had,  as  yet,  announced  himself  a 
passenger.  On  returning  to  my  hotel,  I found  O’Flaherty 
waiting  for  me  ; he  was  greatly  distressed  on  hearing  my  deter- 
mination to  leave  town — explained  how  he  had  been  catering 
for  my  amusement  for  the  week  to  come — that  a picnic  to  the 
Dargle  was  arranged  in  a committee  of  the  whole  house,  and 
a boating  party,  with  a dinner  at  the  Pigeon  House  was  then 
under  consideration.  Resisting,  however,  such  extreme  temp- 
tations, I mentioned  the  necessity  of  my  at  once  proceeding 
to  headquarters,  and  all  other  reasons  for  my  precipitancy 
failing,  concluded  with  that  really  knock-down  argument,  “ I 
have  taken  my  place ; ” this,  I need  scarcely  add,  finished 
the  matter — at  least  I have  never  known  it  to  fail  in  such 
cases.  Tell  your  friends  that  your  wife  is  hourly  expected  to 
be  confined  ; your  favorite  child  is  in  the  measles  ; your  best 
friend  waiting  your  aid  in  an  awkward  scrape — your  one  vote 
only  wanting  to  turn  the  scale  in  an  election.  Tell  them,  I 
say,  each  or  all  of  these,  or  a hundred  more  like  them,  and 
to  any  one  you  so  speak,  the  answer  is — “ Pooh,  pooh,  my 
dear  fellow,  never  fear — don’t  fuss  yourself — take  it  easy — 
to-morrow  will  do  just  as  well.”  If,  on  the  other  hand,  how- 
ever, you  reject  such  flimsy  excuses,  and  simply  say,  “ I’m 
booked  in  the  mail,”  the  opposition  at  once  falls  to  the 
ground,  and  your  quondam  antagonist,  who  was  ready  to 
quarrel  with  you,  is  at  once  prepared  to  assist  in  packing 
your  portmanteau. 

Having  soon  satisfied  my  friend  Tom  that  resistance  was 
in  vain,  I promised  to  eat  an  early  dinner  writh  him  at 
Morrison’s,  and  spent  the  better  part  of  the  morning  in  putting 
down  a few  notes  of  my  Confessions,  as  well  as  the  par- 
ticulars of  Mr.  Daly’s  story,  which,  I believe,  I half  or  wholly 
promised  my  readers  at  the  conclusion  of  my  last  chapter  ; 
but  which  I must  defer  to  a more  suitable  opportunity,  when 
mentioning  the  next  occasion  of  my  meeting  him  on  the 
southern  circuit. 

My  dispositions  were  speedily  made.  I was  fortunate  in 
securing  the  exact  dress  my  friend’s  letter  alluded  to  among 
the  stray  costumes  of  Fishamble  Street;  and  rich  in  the 
possession  of  the  only  “ properties  ” it  has  been  my  lot  to 
acquire,  I despatched  my  treasure  to  the  coach  office,  and 


HARRY  LORREQUER, 


IS1 

hastened  to  Morrison’s,  it  being  by  this  time  nearly  five 
o’clock.  There,  true  to  time,  I found  O’Flaherty  deep  in  the 
perusal  of  the  bill,  along  which  figured  the  novel  expedients 
for  dining,  I had  been  in  the  habit  of  reading  in  every  Dub- 
lin hotel  since  my  boyhood.  “ Mock  turtle,  mutton,  gravy, 
roast  beef  and  potatoes — shoulder  of  mutton  and  potatoes  ! 
ducks,  peas  and  potatoes  ! ! ham  and  chicken,  cutlet  steak 
and  potatoes  ! ! ! apple  tart  and  cheese with  a slight  cadenza 
of  a sigh  over  the  distant  glories  of  Very,  or  still  better  the 
“ Freres,”  we  sat  down  to  a very  partriarchal  repast,  and 
what  may  be  always  had  par  excellence  in  Dublin  a bottle  of 
Sneyd’s  claret. 

Poor  Tom’s  spirits  were  rather  below  their  usual  pitch  ; and 
although  he  made  many  efforts  to  rally  and  appear  gay,  he 
could  not  accomplish  it.  However,  we  chatted  away  over 
old  times  and  old  friends,  and  forgetting  all  else  but  the  topics 
we  talked  of,  the  timepiece  over  the  chimney  first  apprised  me 
that  two  whole  hours  had  gone  by,  and  that  it  was  now  seven 
o’clock,  the  very  hour  the  coach  was  to  start.  I started  up  at 
once,  and  notwithstanding  all  Tom’s  representations  of  the 
impossibility  of  my  being  in  time,  had  dispatched  waiters  in 
different  directions  for  a jarvey,  more  than  ever  determined 
upon  going ; so  often  is  it  that  when  real  reasons  for  our  con* 
duct  are  wanting,  any  casual  or  chance  opposition  confirms  us 
in  an  intention  which  before  was  but  uncertain.  Seeing  me 
so  resolved,  Tom  at  length  gave  way,  and  advised  my  pursue 
ing  the  mail,  which  must  be  gone  now  at  least  ten  minutes, 
and  which,  with  smart  driving  I should  probably  overtake  be* 
fore  getting  free  of  the  city,  as  they  have  usually  many 
delays  in  so  doing.  I at  once  ordered  out  the  “ yellow  post* 
chaise,”  and  before  many  minutes  had  elapsed,  what  with 
imprecation  and  bribery,  I started  in  pursuit  of  his  Majesty’s 
Cork  and  Kilkenny  mail-coach,  then  patiently  waiting  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  Post-office. 

“ Which  way  now,  your  honor  ? ” said  a shrill  voice  from 
the  dark — for  such  the  night  had  already  become ; and 
threatened,  with  a few  heavy  drops  of  straight  rain,  the  fall 
of  a tremendous  shower. 

“The  Naas  road,”  said  I ; “and  harkye,  my  fine  fellow,  if 
you  overtake  the  coach  in  half  an  hour,  I’ll  double  your 
fare.” 

“ Begorra,  I’ll  do  my  endayvor,”  said  the  youth  ; at  the 
same  instant  dashing  in  both  spurs,  we  rattled  down  NasBau 


HARRY  LORRE QUER. 


*5* 

Street  at  a very  respectable  pace  for  harriers.  Street  after 
street  we  passed,  and  at  last  I perceived  we  had  got  clear  of 
the  city,  and  were  leaving  the  long  line  of  lamp-lights  behind 
us.  The  night  was  now  pitch-dark.  I could  not  see  any- 
thing whatever.  The  quick  clattering  of  the  wheels ; the 
sharp  crack  of  the  postilion’s  whip,  or  the  still  sharper  tones 
of  his  “ gee-up,”  showed  me  we  were  going  at  a tremendous 
rate,  had  I not  even  had  the  experience  afforded  by  the 
frequent  visit  my  head  paid  to  the  roof  of  the  chaise,  so  often 
as  we  bounded  over  a stone,  or  splashed  through  a hollow. 
Dark  and  gloomy  as  it  was,  I constantly  let  down  the  window, 
and  with  half  my  body  protruded,  I endeavored  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  “ Chase  ; ” but  nothing  could  I see.  The  rain 
fell  in  actual  torrents  ; and  a more  miserable  night  it  is 
impossible  to  conceive. 

After  about  an  hour  so  spent,  we  at  last  came  to  a check, 
so  sudden  and  unexpected  on  my  part,  that  I was  nearly 
precipitated,  harlequin  fashion,  through  the  front  window. 
Perceiving  that  we  no  longer  moved  and  suspecting  that  some 
part  of  our  tackle  had  given  way,  I let  down  the  sash  and 
cried  out — “ Well  now,  my  lad,  anything  wrong?”  My 
question  was,  however,  unheard ; and  although  amid  the 
steam  arising  from  the  wet  and  smoking  horses,  I could  per- 
ceive several  figures  indistinctly  moving  about,  I could  not 
distinguish  what  they  were  doing,  nor  what  they  said.  A 
laugh  I certainly  did  hear,  and  heartily  cursed  the  unfeeling 
wretch,  as  I supposed  him  to  be,  who  was  enjoying  himself 
at  my  disappointment.  I again  endeavored  to  find  out  what 
had  happened,  and  called  out  till  louder  than  before. 

“ We  are  at  Ra’coole,  your  honor,”  said  the  boy,  approach- 
ing the  door  of  the  chaise,  “and  she’s  only  beat  us  by  half 
a mile.” 

“ Who  the  devil  is  she  ? ” said  I. 

“ The  mail,  your  honor,  is  always  a female  in  Ireland.” 

“ Then  why  do  you  stop  now  ? You’re  not  going  to  feed, 
I suppose  ? ” 

“ Of  course  not,  your  honor,  it’s  little  feeding  troubles  these 
bastes  anyhow,  but  they  tell  me  the  road  is  so  heavy 
we’ll  never  take  the  chaise  over  the  next  stage  without 
leaders.” 

“ Without  leaders  1 ” said  I.  “ Pooh  ! my  good  fellow,  no 
humbugging ; four  horses  for  a light  post-chaise  and  no 
luggage  ; come, get  up,  and  no  nonsense.”  At  this  momenta 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*53 


man  approached  the  window  with  a lantern  in  his  hand,  and 
so  strongly  represented  the  dreadful  state  of  the  roads  from 
the  late  rains — the  length  of  the  stage — the  frequency  of 
accidents  latterly  from  under-horsing,  etc.,  etc.,  that  I yielded 
a reluctant  assent,  and  ordered  out  the  leaders,  comforting 
myself  the  while,  that,  considering  the  inside  fare  of  the  coach 
I made  such  efforts  to  overtake  was  under  a pound,  and 
time  was  no  object  to  me,  I certainly  was  paying  somewhat 
dearly  for  my  character  for  resolution. 

At  last  we  got  under  way  once  more,  and  set  off  cheered 
by  a tremendous  shout  from  at  least  a dozen  persons,  doubt- 
less denizens  of  that  interesting  locality,  amongst  which  I 
once  again  heard  the  laugh  that  had  so  much  - annoyed  me 
already.  The  rain  was  falling,  if  possible,  more  heavily 
than  before,  and  had  evidently  set  in  for  the  entire  night. 
Throwing  myself  back  into  a corner  of  the  “ leathern  con- 
venience,” I gave  myself  up  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
Rochefoucauld  maxim  that  there  is  always  a pleasure  felt 
in  the  misfortunes  of  even  our  best  friends,  and  certainly 
experienced  no  small  comfort  to  • my  distress,  by  contrasting 
my  present  position  with  that  of  my  two  friends  in  the 
saddle,  as  they  sweltered  on  through  mud  and  mire,  rain 
and  storm.  On  we  went,  splashing,  bumping,  rocking  and 
jolting,  till  I began  at  last  to  have  serious  thoughts  of 
abdicating  the  seat  and  betaking  myself  to  the  bottom  of  the 
chaise,  for  safety  and  protection.  Mile  after  mile  succeeded, 
and  as  after  many  a short  and  fitful  slumber,  which  my 
dreams  gave  an  apparent  length  to,  I woke  only  to  find 
myself  still  in  pursuit — the  time  seemed  so  enormously 
protracted,  that  I began  to  fancy  my  whole  life  was  to  be 
passed  in  the  dark  in  chase  of  the  Kilkenny  mail,  as  we 
read  in  the  true  history  of  the  flying  Dutchman,  who,  for 
his  sins  of  impatience — like  mine — spent  centuries  vainly 
endeavoring  to  double  the  Cape,  or  the  Indian  mariner  in 
Moor’^  beautiful  ballad,  of  whom  we  are  told  as— 

“ Many  a day  to  night  gave  way, 

And  many  a morn  succeeded, 

Yet  still  his  flight  by  day  and  night, 

That  restless  mariner  speeded.” 

This  might  have  been  all  very  well  in  the  tropics,  with  a 
smart  craft  and  doubtless  plenty  of  sea-store — but  in  a chase 
at  night,  and  on  the  Naas  road,  I humbly  suggest  I had  all 
the  worst  of  the  parallel. 


*5  4 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


At  last  the  altered  sound  of  the  wheels  gave  notice  of  out 
approach  to  a town,  and  after  about  twenty  minutes,  rattling 
over  the  pavement  we  entered  what  I supposed  correctly  to 
be  Naas.  Here  I had  long  since  determined  my  pursuit 
should  cease.  I had  done  enough,  and  more  than  enough, 
to  vindicate  my  fame  against  any  charge  of  irresolution  as  to 
leaving  Dublin,  and  was  bethinking  me  of  the  various  modes 
of  prosecuting  my  journey  on  the  morrow,  when  we  drew 
Suddenly  up  at  the  door  of  the  Swan.  The  arrival  of  a 
chaise  and  four  at  a small  country  town  inn  suggests  to  the 
various  employes  therein  anything  rather  than  the  traveller  in 
pursuit  of  the  mail,  and  so  the  moment  I arrived  I was 
assailed  with  .innumerable  proffers  of  horses,  supper,  bed, 
stc.  My  anxious  query  was  thrice  repeated  in  vain,  “ When 
did  the  coach  pass  ? ” 

“ The  mail,”  replied  the  landlord,  at  length.  “ Is  it  the 
down  mail  ? ” 

Not  understanding  the  technical,  I answered,  “ Of  course 
not  the  Down — the  Kilkenny  and  Cork  mail  ? ” 

“ From  Dublin,  sir  ? ” 

“ Yes,  from  Dublin.” 

“ Not  arrived  yet,  sir,  nor  will  it  for  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  ; they  never  leave  Dublin  till  a quarter-past  seven  ; 
that  is,  in  fact,  half-past,  and  their  time  here  is  twenty 
minutes  to  eleven.” 

“ Why,  you  stupid  son  of  a boot-top,  we  have  been  posting 
on  all  night  like  the  devil,  and  all  this  time  the  coach  has 
been  ten  miles  behind  us.” 

“ Well,  we’ve  cotch  them  anyhow,”  said  the  urchin,  as  he 
disengaged  himself  from  his  wet  saddle  and  stood  upon  the 
ground,  u and  it  is  not  my  fault  that  the  coach  is  not  before 
us.” 

With  a satisfactory  anathema  upon  all  innkeepers, 
waiters,  hostlers,  and  post-boys  with  a codicil  including 
coach  proprietors,  I followed  the  smirking  landlord  into  a 
well-lighted  room,  with  a blazing  fire,  when,  having  ordered 
supper,  I soon  regained  my  equanimity. 

My  rasher  and  poached  eggs,  all  Naas  could  afford  me, 
were  speedily  dispatched,  and  as  my  last  glass  from  one  pint 
of  sherry  was  poured  out,  the  long-expected  coach  drew  up. 
A minute  after  the  coachman  entered  to  take  his  dram, 
followed  by  the  guard,  a more  lamentable  spectacle  of 
condensed  moisture  cannot  be  conceived ; the  rain  fell  from 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*55 


the  entire  circumference  of  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  like  the 
ever-flowing  drop  from  the  edge  of  an  antique  fountain  ; 
his  drab  coat  had  become  of  a deep  orange  hue,  while  his 
huge  figure  loomed  still  larger  as  he  stood  amid  a nebula  of 
damp  that  would  have  made  an  atmosphere  for  the  Georgium 
Sidus. 

“ Going  on  to-night,  sir  ? ” said  he,  addressing  me  ; “ severe 
weather,  and  no  chance  of  its  clearing,  but  of  course  you’re 
inside.” 

“ Why,  there  is  very  little  doubt  of  that,”  said  I.  “ Are 
you  nearly  full  inside  ? ” 

44  Only  one,  sir  ; but  he  seems  a real  queer  chap  ; made 
fifty  inquiries  at  the  office  if  he  could  not  have  the  whole 
inside  to  himself,  and  when  he  heard  that  one  place  had 
been  taken — yours,  I believe,  sir — he  seemed  like  a scalded 
bear.” 

“ You  don’t  know  his  name,  then  ? ” 

“ No,  sir,  he  never  gave  a name  at  the  office,  and  his  only 
luggage  is  two  brown  paper  parcels,  without  any  ticket,  and  he 
has  them  inside  ; indeed,  he  never  lets  them  from  him  even 
for  a second.” 

Here  the  guard’s  horn,  announcing  all  ready,  interrupted 
the  colloquy,  and  prevented  my  learning  anything  further  of 
my  fellow-traveller,  whom,  however,  I at  once  set  down  in  my 
own  mind  for  some  confounded  old  churl  that  made  himself 
comfortable  everywhere,  without  ever  thinking  of  any  one 
else’s  convenience, 

As  I passed  from  the  inn  door  to  the  coach  I once  more 
congratulated  myself  that  I was  about  to  be  housed  from 
the  terrific  storm  of  wind  and  rain  that  railed  without. 

44  Here’s  the  step,  sir,”  said  the  guard.  44  Get  in  sir  ; two 
minutes  late  already.” 

44 1 beg  your  pardon,  sir,”  said  I,  as  I half  fell  over  the 
legs  of  my  unseen  companion.  44  May  I request  leave  to 
pass  you  ? ” While  he  made  way  for  me  for  this  purpose,  I 
perceived  that  he  stooped  down  toward  the  guard  and  said 
something — who,  from  his  answer,  had  evidently  been  ques- 
tioned as  to  who  I was.  44  And  how  did  he  get  here,  if  he 
took  his  place  in  Dublin  ? ” asked  the  unknown, 

44  Came  half  an  hour  since,  sir,  in  a chaise  and  four,”  said 
the  guard,  as  he  banged  the  door  behind  him,  and  closed  the 
interview. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  reasons  for  my  fellow- 


Harry  lor  re  q c/e  r . 


iS6 

traveller’s  anxiety  about  my  name  and  occupation,  I knew 
not,  yet  could  not  help  feeling  gratified  at  thinking  that,  as 
I hacl  not  given  my  name  at  the  coach-office,  I was  as  great 
a puzzle  to  him  as  he  to  me. 

“ A severe  night,  sir,”  said  I,  endeavoring  to  break  ground 
in  conversation. 

“ Mighty  severe,”  briefly  and  half  crushingly  replied  the 
unknown,  with  a richness  of  brogue  that  might  have  stood 
for  a certificate  of  baptism  in  Cork  or  its  vicinity. 

“ And  a bad  road,  too,  sir,”  said  I,  remembering  my  lately 
accomplished  stage. 

“ That’s  the  reason  I always  go  armed,”  said  the  unknown, 
clinking  at  the  same  moment  something  like  the  barrel  of  a 
pistol. 

Wondering  somewhat  at  his  readiness  to  mistake  my 
meaning,  I felt  disposed  to  drop  any  further  effort  to  draw 
him  out,  and  was  about  to  address  myself  to  sleep,  as  com- 
fortably as  I could. 

“ I’ll  jist  trouble  ye  to  lean  aff  that  little  parcel  there,  sir,” 
said  he,  as  he  displaced  from  its  position  beneath  my  elbow 
one  of  the  paper  packages  the  guard  had  already  alluded  to. 

In  complying  with  this  rather  gruff  demand,  one  of  my 
pocket  pistols,  which  I carried  in  my  breast  pocket,  ell  out 
upon  his  knee,  upon  which  he  immediately  started,  and  asked 
hurriedly — “ And  are  you  armed  too  ? ” 

“ Why,  yes,”  said  I,  laughingly  ; “men  of  my  trade  seldom 
go  without  something  of  this  kind.” 

“ Be  gorra,  I was  just  thinking  that  same,”  said  the 
traveller,  with  a half  sigh  to  himself. 

Why  he  should  or  should  not  have  thought  so,  I never 
troubled  myself  to  canvass,  and  was  once  more  settling  my- 
self in  my  corner,  when  I was  startled  by  a very  melancholy 
groan,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  bottom  of  my  com- 
panion’s heart. 

“ Are  you  ill,  sir  ? ” said  I,  in  a voice  of  some  anxiety. 

“ You  may  say  that,”  replied  he — “ if  you  knew  who  you 
were  talking  to — although  maybe  you’ve  heard  enough  of 
me,  though  you  never  saw  me  till  now.” 

“Without  having  that  pleasure  even  yet,”  said  I,  “it 
would  grieve  me  to  think  you  should  be  ill  in  the  coach.” 

“ Maybe  it  might,”  briefly  replied  the  unknown,  with  a 
species  of  meaning  in  his  words  I could  not  then  understand, 

“ Did  ye  never  hear  tell  of  Barney  Doyle  ? ” said  he* 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*57 


“ Not  to  my  recollection.” 

“Then  I’m  Barney,”  said  he;  “that’s  in  all  the  news- 
papers in  the  metropolis  ; I’m  seventeen  weeks  in  Jervis 
Street  hospital,  and  four  in  the  Lunatic,  and  the  devil  a better 
after  all ; you  must  be  a stranger,  I’m  thinking,  or  you’d 
know  me  now.” 

“ Why,  I do  confess,  I’ve  only  been  a few  hours  in  Ireland 
for  the  last  six  months.” 

“ Ay,  that’s  the  reason  ; I knew  you  would  not  be  fond  of 
travelling  with  me,  if  you  knew  who  it  was.” 

“ Why,  really,”  said  I,  beginning  at  the  moment  to  fathom 
some  of  the  hints  of  my  companion,  “ I did  not  anticipate 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  you.” 

“ It’s  pleasure  ye  call  it ; then  there’s  no  accountin’  for 
tastes,  as  Dr.  Colles  said,  when  he  saw  me  bite  Cusack 
Rooney’s  thumb  qff.” 

“ Bite  a man’s  thumb  off?  ” said  I,  in  a horror. 

“ Ay,”  said  he,  with  a kind  of  fiendish  animation,  “ in  one 
chop.  I wish  you’d  see  how  I scattered  the  consultation, 
begad  they  didn’t  wait  to  ax  for  a fee.” 

Upon  my  soul,  a very  pleasant  vicinity,  thought  I.  “ And 
may  I ask,  sir,”  said  I,  in  a very  mild  and  soothing  tone  of 
voice,  “ may  I ask  the  reason  for  this  singular  propensity  of 
yours  ? ” 

“ There  it  is  now,  my  dear,”  said  he,  laying  his  hand  upon 
my  knee  familiarly,  “ that’s  just  the  very  thing  they  can’t 
make  out.  Colles  says,  it’s  all  the  cerebellum,  ye  see,  that’s 
inflamed  and  and  combusted,  and  some  of  the  others  think  it’s 
the  spine  ; and  more,  the  muscles  ; but  my  real  impression 
is,  the  devil  a bit  they  know  about  it  at  all.” 

“ And  have  they  no  name  for  the  malady  ? ” said  I. 

“ Oh,  sure  enough,  they  have  a name  for  it.” 

“ And,  may  I ask — — ” 

“ Why,  I think  you’d  better  not,  because,  ye  see,  maybe  I 
might  be  troublesome  to  ye  in  the  night,  though  I’ll  not  if  I 
can  help  it,  and  it  might  be  uncomfortable  to  you  to  be  here 
if  I was  to  get  one  of  the  fits.” 

“ One  of  the  fits.  Why,  it’s  not  possible,  sir,”  said  I, 
“ you  would  travel  in  a public  conveyance  in  the  state  you 
mention  ; your  friends  surely  would  not  permit  it  ? ” 

“Why,  if  they  knew , perhaps,”  slyly  responded  the  inter- 
esting invalid,  “ if  they  knew , they  might  not  exactly  like  it ; 
f?ut  ye  see  I escaped  only  last  might,  and  there’ll  be  a fine 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


IS* 

hubbub  in  the  morning,  when  they  find  I’m  off ; though  I’m 
thinking  Rooney’s  barking  away  by  this  time.” 

“ Rooney  barking  ! why,  what  does  that  means  ? ” 

“ They  always  bark  for  a day  or  two  after  they’re  bit,  if 
the  infection  comes  first  from  the  dog.” 

“ You  are  surely  not  speaking  of  hydrophobia,”  said  I,  my 
hair  actually  bristling  with  horror  and  consternation. 

“ Ayn’t  I ? ” replied  he  ; “ maybe  you’ve  guessed  it, 
though.” 

“ And  have  you  the  malady  on  you  at  present  ? ” said  I, 
trembling  for  the  answer. 

“ This  is  the  ninth  day  since  I took  to  biting,”  said  he, 
gravely,  perfectly  unconscious,  as  if’appeared  of  the  terror 
such  information  was  calculated  to  convey. 

“ And  with  such  a propensity,  sir,  do  you  think  yourself 
Warranted  in  travelling  in  a public  coach,  exposing  others — ” 

“ You’d  better  not  raise  your  voice  that  way,”  quietly 
responded  he  ; “ if  I’m  roused,  it’ll  be  worse  for  ye,  that’s  all.” 

u Well,  but,”  said  I,  moderating  my  zeal,  “ is  it  exactly 
prudent  in  your  delicate  state,  to  undertake  a journey  ? ” 

“ Ah,”  said  he,  with  a sigh,  “ I’ve  been  longing  to  see  the 
fox-hounds  thrown  off,  near  Kilkenny  ; these  three  weeks 
I’ve  been  thinking  of  nothing  else  ; but  I’m  not  sure  how 
my  nerves  will  stand  the  cry ; I might  be  throublesome.” 

“ Upon  my  soul,”  thought  I,  “ I shall  not  select  that  morn- 
ing for  my  debut  in  the  field.” 

“ I hope,  sir,  there’s  no  river  or  water-course  on  this  road 
— anything  else  I can,  I hope,  control  myself  against  ; but  » 
water — running  water  particularly — makes  me  throublesome.” 

Well  knowing  what  he  meant  by  the  latter  phrase,  I felt  the 
cold  perspiration  settling  on  my  forehead,  as  I remembered 
that  we  must  be  within  about  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  Leighlin- 
bridge,  where  we  should  have  to  pass  a very  wide  river.  I 
strictly  concealed  this  fact  from  him,  however,  and  gave  him 
to  understand  that  there  was  not  a well,  brook  or  rivulet,  for 
forty  miles  on  either  side  of  us.  He  now  sunk  into  a kind  of 
moody  silence,  .broken  occasionally  by  a low  muttering  noise, 
as  if  speaking  to  himself — what  this  might  portend,  I know 
not — but  thought  it  better,  under  all  circumstances,  not  to 
disturb  him.  How  comfortable  my  present  condition  was  I 
need  scarcely  remark — sitting  vis-a-vis  to  a lunatic,  with  a 
pair  of  pistols  in  his  possession — who  had  already  avowed 
his  consciousness  of  his  tendency  to  do  mischief,  and  his 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


*59 


inability  to  master  it ; all  this  in  the  dark,  and  in  the  narrow 
limits  of  a mail-coach,  where  there  was  scarcely  room  for  de* 
fence,  and  no  possibility  of  escape — how  heartily  I wished 
myself  back  in  the  coffee-room  at  Morrison’s  with  my  poof 
friend  Tom — the  infernal  chaise  that  I cursed  a hundred 
times  would  have  been  an  “ exchange,”  better  than  into  the 
Life-Guards — ay,  even  the  outside  of  the  coach,  if  I could 
only  reach  it,  would,  under  present  circumstances,  be  a 
glorious  alternative  to  my  existing  misfortune.  What  were 
rain  and  storm  and  thunder  and  lightning  compared  with  the 
chances  that  awaited  me  here  ? — wet  through  I should  inevit- 
ably be,  but  then  I had  not  yet  contracted  the  horror  of  moist- 
ure my  friend  opposite  labored  under.  “ Ha  ! what  is  that ! 
is  it  possible  he  can  be  asleep  ; is  it  really  a snore  ? Heaven 
grant  that  little  snort  be  not  what  the  medical  people  call  a 
premonitory  symptom — if  so,  he’ll  be  in  upon  me  now  in  no 
time.  Ah  ! there  it  is  again  ; lie  must  be  asleep  surely  ; now 
then  is  my  time  or  never.”  With  these  words  muttered  to 
myself,  and  a heart  throbbing  almost  audibly  at  the  risk  of 
his  awakening,  I slowly  let  down  the  window  of  the  coach, 
and,  stretching  forth  my  hand,  turned  the  handle  cautiously 
and  slowly ; I next  disengaged  my  legs,  and  by  a long  con- 
tinuous effort  of  creeping — which  I had  learned  perfectly 
once,  when  practicing  to  go  as  a boa  constrictor  to  a fancy 
ball — I withdrew  myself  from  the  seat  and  reached  the  step, 
when  I muttered  something  very  like  a thanksgiving  to  Prov- 
idence for  my  rescue.  With  little  difficulty  I now  climbed 
up  beside  the  guard,  whose  astonishment  at  my  appear- 
ance was  indeed  considerable — that  any  man  should  prefer 
the  out  to  the  inside  of  a coach  in  such  a night  was  rather 
remarkable ; but  that  the  person  so  doing  should  be  totally 
unprovided  with  a box-coat,  or  other  similar  protection, 
argued  something  so  strange,  that  I doubt  not,  if  he  were  to 
decide  upon  the  applicability  of  the  statute  of  lunacy  to  a 
traveller  in  the  mail,  the  palm  would  certainly  have  been 
awarded  to  me,  and  not  to  my  late  companion.  Well,  on  we 
rolled,  and  heavily  as  the  rain  poured  down,  so  relieved  did 
I feel  at  my  change  of  position,  that  I soon  fell  fast  asleep, 
and  never  woke  till  the  coach  was  driving  up  Patrick  Street. 
Whatever  solace  to  my  feelings  reaching  the  outside  of  tha 
coach  might  have  been  attended  with  at  night,  the  pleasure 
I experienced  on  awaking,  was  really  not  unalloyed.  Mora 
dead  than  alive  I sat  a mass  of  wet  <x!othes,  like  nothing  un- 


HARR  V L ORREQUER. 


l6o 

der  heaven  except  it  be  that  morsel  of  black  and  spongy  wet 
cotton  at  the  bottom  of  a school-boy’s  ink-bottle,  saturated 
with  rain  and  the  black  dye  of  my  coat.  My  hat,  too,  had 
contributed,  its  share  of  coloring  matter,  and  several  long 
black  streaks  coursed  down  my  “ wrinkled  front,”  giving  me 
very  much  the  air  of  an  Indian  warrior,  who  had  got  the  first 
priming  of  his  war  paint.  I certainly  must  have  been  a rue- 
ful object,  were  I only  to  judge  from  the  faces  of  the  waiters 
as  they  gazed  on  me  when  the  coach  drew  up  at  Rice  & 
Walsh’s  hotel.  Cold,  wet,  and  weary  as  I was,  my  curiosity 
to  learn  more  of  my  late  agreeable  companion  was  strong  as 
ever  within  me — -perhaps  stronger,  from  the  sacrifices  his 
acquaintance  had  exacted  from  me.  Before,  however,  I had 
disengaged  myself  from  the  pile  of  trunks  and  carpet-bags  I 
had  surrounded  myself  with,  he  had  got  out  of  the  coach, 
and  all  I could  catch  a glimpse  of  was  the  back  of  a little 
short  man  in  a kind  of  gray  upper  coat,  and  long  galligaskins 
on  his  legs.  He  carried  his  two  bundles  under  his  arm  and 
stepped  nimbly  up  the  steps  of  the  hotel,  without  ever  turn- 
ing his  head  to  either  side. 

“ Don’t  fancy  you  shall  escape  me  now , my  good  friend,” 
I cried  out,  as  I sprang  from  the  roof  to  the  ground  with  one 
jump,  and  hurried  after  the  great  unknown  into  the  coffee- 
room.  By  the  time  I reached  it  he  had  approached  the  fire, 
on  the  table  near  which,  having  deposited  the  mysterious 
paper  parcels,  he  was  now  busily  engaged  in  divesting  him- 
self of  his  great  coat ; his  face  was  still  turned  from  me, 
so  that  I had  time  to  appear  employed  in  divesting  myself  of 
my  wet  drapery  before  he  perceived  me  ; at  last  the  coat 
was  unbuttoned,  the  gaiters  followed,  and  throwing  them  care- 
lessly on  a chair,  he  tucked  up  the  skirts  of  his  coat,  and 
spreading  himself  comfortably  a FAnglaise  before  the  fire, 
displayed  to  my  wondering  and  stupefied  gaze  the  pleasant 
features  of  Dr.  Finucane. 

“ Why,  Dr. — Dr.  Finucane,”  cried  I ; “ is  this  possible  ! 
Were  you  then  really  the  inside  in  the  mail  last  night  ? ” 

“ Devil  a doubt  of  it,  Mr.  Lorrequer ; and  maj  I make 
bould  to  ask — were  you  the  outside  ? ” 

“ Then  what,  may  I beg  to  know,  did  you  mean  by  your 
damned  story  about  Barney  Doyle,  and  the  hydrophobia,  and 
Cusack  Rooney’s  thumb — eh  ? ” 

“ Oh,  by  the  Lord,”  said  Finucane,  “ this  will  be  the  death 
s>f  me  ; and  it  was  you  that  I drove  outside  in  all  the  rain  last 


JRARRV  LORREQUER . 


161 

f ight ! Oh  it  will  kill  Father  Malachi  outright  with  laughing, 
when  I tell  him  ! ” and  he  burst  out  into  a fit  of  merriment 
that  nearly  induced  me  to  break  his  head  with  the  poker. 

“ Am  I to  understand,  then,  Mr.  Finucane,  that  this  prac- 
tical joke  of  yours  was  contrived  for  my  benefit,  and  for  the 
purpose  of  holding  me  up  to  the  ridicule  of  your  confounded 
acquaintances.  ” 

“ Nothing  of  the  kind,  upon  my  conscience,”  said  Fin, 
drying  his  eyes,  and  endeavoring  to  look  sorry  and  senti- 
mental. “ If  I had  only  the  least  suspicion  in  life  that  it  was 
you,  upon  my  oath  Fd  not  have  had  the  hydrophobia  at  all, 
and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  you  were  not  the  only  one  frightened 
— you  alarmed  me  devilishly  too.” 

“ I alarmed  you  ! Why,  how  can  that  be  ? ” 

“ Why,  the  real  affair  is  this  : I was  bringing  these  two 
packages  of  notes  down  to  my  cousin  Callaghan’s  bank  in 
Cork — fifteen  thousand  pounds — devil  a less  : and  when  you 
came  into  the  coach  at  Naas,  after  driving  there  with  your 
four  horses,  I thought  it  was  all  up  with  me.  The  guard  just 
whispered  in  my  ear  that  he  saw  you  look  at  the  priming  of 
your  pistols  before  getting  in ; and  faith  I said  four  paters, 
and  a Hail  Mary,  before  you’d  count  five.  Well,  when  you 
got  seated,  the  thought  came  into  my  mind  that  may  be, 
highwayman  as  you  were,  you  would  not  like  dying  a natural 
death,  more  particularly  if  you  were  an  Irishman ; and  so  I 
trumped  up  that  long  story  about  the  hydrophobia,  and  the 
gentleman’s  thumb,  and  devil  knows  what  besides and 
while  I was  telling  it,  the  cold  perspiration  was  running 
down  my  head  and  face,  for  every  time  you  stirred,  I said  to 
myself,  now  he’ll  do  it.  Two  or  three  times,  do  you  know,  I 
was  going  to  offer  you  ten  shillings  in  the  pound,  and  spare 
my  life  ; and  once,  God  forgive  me,  I thought  it  would  not 
be  a bad  plan  to  shoot  you  by  ‘ mistake,’  do  you  perceive.” 

“ Why,  upon  my  soul,  I’m  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
your  excessively  kind  intentions ; but  really  I feel  you  have 
done  quite  enough  for  me  on  the  present  occasion.  But, 
come  now,  doctor,  I must  get  to  bed,  and  before  I go,  promise 
me  two  things — to  dine  with  us  to-day  at  the  mess,  and  not 
to  mention  a syllable  of  what  occurred  last  night — it  tells, 
believe  me,  very  badly  for  both  ; so,  keep  the  secret,  for  if 
these  confounded  fellows  of  ours  ever  got  hold  of  it,  I may 
sell  out,  or  quit  the  army ; I’ll  never  hear  the  end  of  it.” 

“ Never  fear,  my  boy ; trust  me.  I’ll  dine  with  you,  and 


162 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


you’re  as  safe  as  a church-mouse  for  anything  I’ll  tell  them ; 
so,  now  you’d  better  change  your  clothes,  for  I’m  thinking  it 
rained  last  night.” 

Muttering  some  very  dubious  blessings  upon  the  learned 
Fin,  I left  the  room,  infinitely  more  chagrined,  and  chopfallen 
at  the  discovery  I had  made,  than  at  all  the  misery  and  ex- 
posure the  trick  had  consigned  me  to.  “ However,”  thought 
I,  “ if  the  doctor  keeps  his  word,  all  goes  well : the  whole 
affair  is  between  us  both  solely ; but,  should  it  not  be  so,  I 
may  shoot  half  the  mess  before  the  other  half  would  give  up 
quizzing  me.”  Revolving  such  pleasant  thoughts,  I betook 
myself  to  bed,  and  what  with  mulled  port,  and  a blazing  fire, 
became  once  more  conscious  of  being  a warm-blooded  animal, 
and  fell  sound  asleep  to  dream  of  doctors,  strait  waistcoats, 
shaved  heads  and  all  the  pleasing  associations  my  late  com- 
panion’s narrative  so  readily  suggested. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MEMS.  OF  THE  NORTH  CORK. 

At  six  o’clock  I had  the  pleasure  of  presenting  the  worthy 
Dr.  Finucane  to  our  mess,  taking  at  the  same  time  an  oppor- 
tunity unobserved  'by  him,  to  inform  three  or  four  of  my 
brother  officers  that  my  friend  was  really  a character,  abound- 
ing in  native  drollery,  and  richer  in  good  stories  than  even 
the  generality  of  his  countrymen. 

Nothing  could  possibly  go  on  better  than  the  early  part  of 
the  evening.  Fin,  true  to  his  promise,  never  once  alluded  to 
what  I could  plainly  perceive  was  ever  uppermost  in  his 
mind,  and  what  with  his  fund  of  humor,  quaintness  of  ex- 
pression, and  quickness  at  reply,  garnished  throughout  by 
his  most  mellifluous  brogue,  the  true  “ Bocca  Corkana,”  kept 
us  from  one  roar  of  laughter  to  another.  It  was  just  at  the 
moment  in  which  his  spirits  seemed  at  their  highest,  that  I 
had  the  misfortune  to  call  upon  him  for  a story,  which  his 
cousin  Father  Malachi  had  alluded  to  on  the  ever-memorable  • 
evening  at  his  house,  and  which  I had  a great  desire  to  hear 
from  Fin’s  own  lips.  He  seemed  disposed  to  escape  telling 
it,  and  upon  my  continuing  to  press  my  request,  dryly 
remarked : 


BARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


i63 

“You  forget,  surely,  my  dear  Mr.  Lorrequer,  the  weak 
condition  I’m  in  ; and  these  gentlemen  here,  they  don’t  know 
what  a severe  illness  I’ve  been  laboring  under  lately,  or  they 
would  not  pass  the  decanter  so  freely  down  this  quarter/’ 

I had  barely  time  to  throw  a mingled  look  of  entreaty  and 
menace  across  the  table,  when  half  a dozen  others,  rightly 
judging  from  the  doctor’s  tone  and  serio-comic  expression, 
that  his  malady  had  many  more  symptoms  of  fun  than  suffer- 
ing about  it,  called  out  together  : 

“ Oh,  doctor,  by  all  means,  tell  us  the  nature  of  your  late 
attack  ; pray  relate  it.” 

“ With  Mr.  Lorrequer’s  permission,  I’m  your  slave,  gentle- 
men,” said  Fin,  finishing  off  his  glass. 

“Oh,  as  for  me,”  I cried,  “ Dr.  Finucane  has  my  full 
penmssion  to  detail  whatever  he  pleases  to  think  a fit  subject 
for  your  amusement.” 

“ Come,  then,  doctor,  Harry  has  no  objection,  you  see  : so 
out  with  it ; and  we  are  all  prepared  to  sympathize  with  your 
woes  and  misfortunes,  whatever  they  be.” 

“ Well,  I am  sure  I never  could  think  of  mentioning  it 

without  his  leave  ; but  now  that  he  sees  no  objection * 

Eh,  do  you,  though  ? if  so,  then,  don’t  be  winking  and 
making  faces  at  me  ; but  say  the  word,  and  devil  a syllable 
of  it  I’ll  tell  to  man  or  mortal.” 

The  latter  part  of  this  delectable  speech  was  addressed  to 
me  across  the  table,  in  a species  of  stage  whisper,  in  reply  to 
some  telegraphic  signals  I had  been  throwing  him,  to  induce 
him  to  turn  the  conversation  into  any  other  channel. 

“ Then,  that’s  enough,”  continued  he,  sotto  voce—“  I see 
you’d  rather  I’d  not  tell  it.” 

“Tell  it  and  be  d d,”  said  I,  wearied  by  the  incorrigi- 

ble pertinacity  with  which  the  villain  assailed  me.  My  most 
unexpected  energy  threw  the  whole  table  into  a roar,  at  the 
conclusion  of  which  Fin  began  his  narrative  of  the  mail-coach 
adventure. 

I need  not  tell  my  reader,  who  has  followed  me  through- 
out in  these  my  Confessions,  that  such  a story  lost  nothing  of 
its  absurdity  when  intrusted  to  the  doctor’s  power  of  narra- 
tion ; he  dwelt  with  a poet’s  feelings  upon  the  description  of 
his  own  sufferings,  and  my  sincere  condolence  and  commis- 
eration ; he  touched  with  the  utmost  delicacy  upon  the  dis- 
tant hints  by  which  he  broke  the  news  to  me ; but  when  he 
came  to  describe  my  open  and  undisguised  terror,  and  my 


164 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


secret  and  precipitate  retreat  to  the  roof  of  the  coach,  there 
was  not  a man  at  the  table  that  was  not  convulsed  with 
laughter — and  shall  I acknowledge  it,  even  I myself  was  un- 
able to  withstand  the  effect,  and  joined  in  the  general 
chorus  against  myself. 

“ Well,”  said  the  remorseless  wretch,  as  he  finished  his 
story,  “ if  ye  haven’t  the  hard  hearts  to  laugh  at  such  a mel- 
ancholy subject ! Maybe,  however,  you  are  not  so  cruel 
after  all — here’s  a toast  for  you,  ‘A  speedy  recovery  to 
Cusack  Rooney.’  ” This  was  drunk  amid  renewed  peals, 
with  all  the  honors ; and  I had  abundant  time  before  the 
uproar  was  over  to  wish  every  man  of  them  hanged.  It 
was  to  no  purpose  that  I endeavored  to  turn  the  tables,  by 
describing  Fin’s  terror  at  my  supposed  resemblance  to  a 
highwayman — his  story  had  the  precedence,  and  I met 
nothing  during  my  recital  but  sly  allusions  to  mad  dogs, 
muzzles,  and  doctors  ; and  contemptible  puns  were  let  off  on 
every  side  at  my  expense. 

“ It’s  little  shame  I take  to  myself  for  the  mistake,  any- 
how,” said  Fin,  “ for  putting  the  darkness  of  the  night  out 
of  the  question,  I’m  not  so  sure  I would  not  have  ugly  sus- 
picions of  you  by  daylight.” 

“ And  besides,  doctor,”  added  I,  “ it  would  not  be  your 
first  blunder  in  the  dark.” 

“ True  for  you,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  he,  good-humoredly; 
“ and  now  that  I have  told  them  your  story,  I don’t  care  if 
they  hear  mine,  though  maybe  some  of  ye  have  heard  it 
already — it’s  pretty  well  known  in  the  North  Cork.” 

We  all  gave  our  disclaimers  on  this  point,  and  having  or- 
dered in  a fresh  cooper  of  port,  disposed  ourselves  in  our 
most  easy  attitudes,  while  the  doctor  proceeded  as  follows  : 

“ It  was  in  the  hard  winter  of  the  year  ’99  that  we  were 
quartered  in  Maynooth,  as  many  said  for  our  sins — for  a 
more  stupid  place,  the  Lord  be  merciful  to  it,  never  were 
men  condemned  to.  The  people  at  the  college  were  much 
better  off  than  us — they  had  ^whatever  was  to  be  got  in  the 
country,  and  never  were  disturbed  by  mounting  guard  or 
night  patrols.  Many  of  the  professors  were  good  fellows, 
that  liked  grog  fully  as  well  as  Greek,  and  understood 
short  whist,  and  five-and-ten  quite  as  intimately  as  they 
knew  the  vulgate,  or  the  confessions  of  St.  Augustine — - 
they  made  no  ostentatious  display  of  their  pious  zeal,  bet 
whenever  they  were  not  fasting  or  praying,  or  something  of 


HARRY  LORREQUER.  165 

that  kind,  they  were  always  pleasant  and  agreeable  ; and  to 
ao  them  justice,  never  refuse,  by  any  chance,  an  invitation 
to  dinner — no  matter  at  what  inconvenience.  Well,  even 
this  little  solace  in  our  affliction  we  soon  lost,  by  an  unfortu- 
nate mistake  of  that  Orange  rogue  of  the  world,  Major  Jones, 
that  gave  a wrong  pass  one  night — Mr.  Lorrequer  knows  the 
story  (here  he  alluded  to  an  adventure  detailed  in  an  early 
chapter  of  my  Confessions),  and  from  that  day  forward  we 
never  saw  the  pleasant  faces  of  the  Abbe  D’Array,  or  the 
Professor  of  the  Humanities,  at  the  mess.  Well,  the  only 
thing  I could  do,  was  just  to  take  an  opportunity  to  drop  in 
at  the  college  in  the  evening,  where  we  had  a quiet  rubber 
of  whist,  and  a little  social  and  intellectual  conversation, 
with  maybe  an  oyster  and  a glass  of  punch,  just  to  season 
the  thing,  before  we  separated  ; all  done  discreetly  and  quietly 
— no  shouting  nor  even  singing,  for  the  4 superior  ’ had  a 
prejudice  about  profane  songs.  Well,  one  of  those  nights, 
it  was  about  the  first  week  in  February,  I was  detained  by 
stress  of  weather  from  eleven  o’clock,  when  we  usually  bade 
good-night,  to  past  twelve,  and  then  to  one  o’clock,  waiting  for 
a dry'moment  to  get  home  to  the  barracks — a good  mile  and 
a half  off.  Every  time  old  Father  Mahoney  went  to  look  at 
the  weather,  he  came  back  saying  ‘ It’s  worse  it’s  getting ; 
such  a night  of  rain,  glory  be  to  God,  never  was  seen.’  So 
there  was  no  good  in  going  out  to  be  drenched  to  the  skin, 
and  I sat  quietly  waiting,  taking  between  times  a little  punch, 
just  not  to  seem  impatient,  nor  distress  their  rev’rances.  At 
last  it  struck  two,  and  I thought — ‘ well,  the  decanter  is 
empty  now  and  I think,  if  I mean  to  walk,  I’ve  taken  enough 
for  the  present ; ’ so  wishing  them  all  manner  of  happiness 
and  pleasant  dreams  I stumbled  my  way  downstairs,  and 
set  out  on  my  journey*  I was  always  in  the  habit  of  taking  a 
short  cut  on  my  way  home,  across  the  ‘ gurt  na  brocha,’  the 
priest’s  meadows,  as  they  call  them  ; it  saved  nearly  a half  a 
mile,  although  on  the  present  occasion  it  exposed  one  wofully 
to  the  rain,  for  there  was  nothing  to  shelter  under  the  entire 
way,  not  even  a tree.  Well,  out  I set  in  a half  trot,  for  I 
stayed  so  late  I was  pressed  for  time  ; besides,  I felt  it  easier 
to  run  than  walk ; I’m  sure  I can’t  tell  why  ; may  be  the 
drop  of  drink  I took  got  into  my  head.  Well,  I was  just 
joggin’  on  across  the  common,  the  rain  beating  hard  in  my 
face,  and  my  clothes  pasted  to  me  with  the  wet,  notwith- 
standing I was  singing  to  myself  a verse  of  an  old  song  fcq 


i66 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


lighten  the  road,  when  I heard  suddenly  a noise  near  me* 
like  a man  sneezing.  I stopped  and  listened— in  fact  it  was 
impossible  to  see  your  hand  the  night  was  so  dark— but  I 
could  hear  nothing  ; the  thought  then  came  over  me,  maybe 
it’s  something  ‘ not  good,’  for  there  were  very  ugly  stories 
going  about  what  the  priests  used  to  do  formerly  in  these 
meadows  ; and  bones  were  often  found  in  different  parts  of 
them.  Just  as  I was  thinking  this, . another  voice  came 
nearer  than  the  last;  it  might  be  only  a sneeze  after  all; 
but  in  real  earnest  it  was  mighty  like  a groan.  /The  Lord 
be  about  us/  I said  to  myself,  ‘what  this? — have  ye  the 
pass  ? ’ I cried  out,  ‘ have  ye  the  pass  ? or  what  brings  ye 
walking  here  in  nomi?ie  pater ! ’ for  I was  so  confused 
whether  it  was  a ‘ spent’  or  not,  I was  going  to  address  him 
in  Latin — there’s  nothing  equal  to  the  dead  languages  to  lay 
a ghost  everybody  knows.  Faith,  the  moment  I said  these 
words  he  gave  another  groan,  deeper  and  more  melancholy 
like  than  before.  ‘If  it’s  uneasy  ye  are/  says  I,  ‘for  any 
neglect  of  your  friends/  for  I thought  he  might  be  in  purga- 
tory longer  than  he  thought  convenient,  ‘ tell  me  what  you 
wish,  and  go  home  peaceably  out  of  the  rain,  for  this  weather 
can  do  no  good  to  living  or  dead  ; go  home,’  said  I,  ‘ and,  if 
it’s  masses  ye’d  like,  I’ll  give  you  a day’s  pay  myself,  rather 
than  you  should  fret  yourself  this  way.’  The  words  were 
not  well  out  of  my  mouth  when  he  came  so  near  me  that  the 
sigh  he  gave  went  through  both  my  ears.  ‘The  Lord  be 
merciful  to  me,’  said  I,  trembling.  ‘ Amen,’  says  he, 
‘ whether  you’re  joking  or  not.’  The  moment  he  said  that 
my  mind  was  relieved,  for  I knew  it  was  not  a spirit,  and  I 
began  to  laugh  heartily  at  my  mistake.  ‘And  who  are  ye  at 
all/  said  I,  ‘that’s  roving  about  at  this  hour  of  the  night? 
Ye  can’t  be  Father  Luke,  for  I left  himself  asleep  on  the  car- 
pet before  I quitted  the  college,  and  faith,  my  friend,  if  you 
hadn’t  the  taste  for  devarsion,  ye  would  not  be  out  now.’ 
He  coughed  then  so  hard  that  I could  not  make  out  well 
what  he  said,  but  just  perceived  that  he  had  lost  his  way  on 
to  the  common,  and  was  a little  disguised  in  liquor.  ‘ It’s  a 
good  man’s  case/  said  I,  ‘to  take  a little  too  much,  though 
it’s  what  I don’t  do  myself ; so,  take  hold  of  my  hand  and  I’ll 
see  you  safe.’  I stretched  out  my.  hand,  and  got  him,  not 
by  the  arm,  as  I hoped,  but  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  for  he 
was  all  dripping  with  wet,  and  had  lost  his  hat.  ‘ Well, 
you’ll  not  be  better  of  this  night’s  excursion/  thought  I,  ‘if 


HA  RR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


167 

ye  are  liable  to  the  rheumatism  ; and  now,  whereabout  do 
you  live,  my  friend  ? for  I’ll  see  you  safe  before  I leave  you.’ 
What  he  said  then  I never  could  make  out,  for  the  wind  and 
rain  were  beating  so  hard  against  my  face  that  I could  not 
hear  a word  ; however,  I was  able  just  to  perceive  that  he 
was  very  much  disguised  in  drink,  and  spoke  rather  thick. 
‘ Well,  never  mind/  said  I,  ‘ it’s  not  a time  of  day  for  much 
conversation;  so  come  along,  and  I’ll  see  you  safe  to  the 
guard-house,  if  you  can’t  remember  your  own  place  of  abode 
in  the  mean  while.’  It  was  just  at  the  moment  I said  this 
that  I first  discovered  he  was  not  a gentleman.  Well,  now 
you’d  never  guess  how  I did  it ; and,  faith,  I always  thought 
it  a very  cute  thing  of  me,  and  both  of  us  in  the  dark.” 

“ Well,  I really  confess  it  must  have  been  a very  difficult 
thing,  under  the  circumstances  ; pray  how  did  you  contrive  ? ” 
said  the  major. 

“Just  guess  how.” 

“ By  the  tone  of  his  voice,  perhaps,  and  his  accent,”  said 
Curzon. 

“ Devil  a bit,  for  he  spoke  remarkably  well,  considering 
how  far  gone  he  was  in  liquor.”  v 

“ Well,  probably  by  the  touch  of  his  hand  ; no  bad  test.” 

“ No  ; you’re  wrong  again,  for  it  was  by  the  hair  I had  a 
hold  of  him  for  fear  of  falling,  for  he  was  always  stooping 
down.  Well,  you’d  never  guess  it ; it  was  just  by  the  touch 
of  his  foot.” 

“ His  foot ! Why,  how  did  that  give  you  any  information  ? ” 

“ There  it  is,  now ; that’s  just  what  only  an  Irishman 
would  even  have  made  anything  out  of ; for,  while  he  was 
stumbling  about,  he  happened  to  tread  upon  my  toes,  and 
never  since  I was  born  did  I feel  anything  like  the  weight  of 
him.  ‘Well,’  said  I,  ‘the  loss  of  your  hat  may  give  you  a 
cold,  my  friend  ; but  upon  my  conscience  you  are  in  no  dan- 
ger of  wet  feet  with  such  a pair  of  strong  brogues  as  you 
have  on  you.’  Well,  he  laughed  at  that  till  I thought  he’d 
split  his  sides  ; and,  in  good  truth,  I could  not  help  joining 
in  the  fun,  although  my  foot  was  smarting  like  mad  ; and  so 
we  jogged  along  through  the  rain,  enjoying  the  joke  just  as  if 
we  were  sitting  by  a good  fire,  with  a jorum  of  punch  between 
us.  I am  sure  I can’t  tell  you  how  often  we  fell  that  night, 
but  my  clothes  the  next  morning  were  absolutely  covered 
with  mud,  and  my  hat  crushed  in  two  ; for  he  was  so  con- 
foundedly drunk  it  w?s  impossible  to  keep  him  up,  and  he 


HARRY  LORRE QUER. 


468 

always  kept  boring  along  with  his  head  down,  so  that  my 
heart  was  almost  broke  in  keeping  him  upon  his  legs.  Tm 
sure  I never  had  a more  fatiguing  march  in  the  whole  Pen- 
insula than  that  blessed  mile  and  a half  ; but  every  misfortune 
has  an  end  at  last,  and  it  was  four  o’clock,  striking  by  the 
college  clock,  as  we  reached  the  barracks,  After  knocking 
a couple  of  times,  and  giving  the  countersign,  the  sentry 
opened  the  small  wicket,  and  my  heart  actually  leaped  with 
joy  that  I had  done  with  my  friend  ; so  I just  called  out  the 
sergeant  of  the  guard,  and  said,  4 Will  you  put  that  poor 
fellow  on  the  guard-bed  till  morning  ? for  I found  him  on 
the  common,  and  he  could  neither  find  his  way  home  nor 
tell  me  where  he  lived.’  ‘And  where  is  he  ?’  said  the  ser- 
geant. 4 He’s  outside  the  gate  there,’  said  I,  4 w^et  to  the  skin, 
and  shaking  as  if  he  had  the  ague.’  4 And  is  this  him  ? ’ said 
the  sergeant,  as  he  went  outside.  4 It  is,’  said  I,  4 maybe  you 
know  him  ? ’ 4 Maybe  I’ve  a guess,’  said  he,  bursting  into  a 

fit  of  laughing  that  I thought  he’d  choke  with.  4 Well,  ser- 
geant,’ said  I,  4 1 always  took  you  for  a humane  man  ; but  if 
that’s  the  way  you  treat  a fellow-creature  in  distress.’  4 A fel- 
low-creature,’ said  he,  laughing  louder  than  before.  4 Ay,  a fel- 
low-creature,’ said  I^for  the  sergeant  was  an  Orangeman — 
4 and  if  he  differs  from  you  in  matters  of  religion,  sure  he’s  your 
fellow-creature  still.’  4 Troth,  doctor,  I think  there’s  another 
trifling  difference  betune  us,’  said  he.  4 Damn  your  politics,’ 
said  I,  4 never  let  them  interfere  with  true  humanity.’  Wasn’t 
I right,  major?  ‘Take  good  care  of  him  and  here’s  half-a- 
crown  for  ye.’  So,  saying  these  words,  I steered  along  by  the 
barrack  wall,  and,  after  a little  groping  about,  got  upstairs  to 
my  quarters,  when,  thanks  to  a naturally  good  constitution 
and  regular  habits  of  life,  I soon  fell  fast  asleep.” 

When  the  doctor  had  said  thus  much,  he  pushed  his  chair 
slightly  from  the  table,  and,  taking  off  his  wine,  looked  about 
him  with  the  composure  of  a man  who  has  brought  his  tale 
to  a termination. 

44  Well,  but,  doctor,”  said  the  major,  44  you  are  surely  not 
done.  You  have  not  yet  told  us  who  your  interesting  friend 
turned  out  to  be.” 

44  That’s  the  very  thing,  then,  I’m  not  able  to  do.” 

44  But,  of  course,”  said  another,  44  your  story  does  not  end 
there.”  * 

44  And  where  the  devil  would  you  have  it  end  ? ” replied 
he,  44  Didn’t  I bring  my  hero  home,  and  go  asleep  after- 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER.  i 69 

ward  myself,  and  then,  with  virtue  rewarded,  how  could  I 
finish  it  better  ? ” 

“ Oh,  of  course  ; but  still  you  have  not  accounted  for  a 
principal  character  in  the  narrative/’  said  I. 

“ Exactly  so/’  said  Curzon.  “We  were  all  expecting 
some  splendid  catastrophe  in  the  morning ; that  your  com- 
panion turned  out  to  be  the  Duke  of  Leinster,  at  least — or 
parhaps  a rebel  general,  with  an  immense  price  upon  his 
head/’ 

“ Neither  the  one  nor  the  other,”  said  Fin,  dryly. 

“ And  do  you  mean  to  say  there  never  was  any  clew  to  the 
discovery  of  him  ? ” 

“ The  entire  affair  is  wrapped  in  mystery  to  this  hour,” 
said  he.  “ There  was  a joke  about  it,  to  be  sure,  among  the 
officers  ; but  the  North  Cork  never  wanted  something  to 
laugh  at.” 

“ And  what  was  the  joke  ? ” said  several  voices  together. 

“ Just  a complaint  from  old  Mickey  Oulahan,  the  post- 
master, to  the  colonel  in  the  morning,  that  some  of  the 
officers  took  awa)f  his  blind  mare  off  the  common,  and  that 
the  letters  were  late  in  consequence.” 

“ And  so,  doctor,”  called  out  seven  or  eight,  “ your  friend 
turned  out  to  be ” 

“ Upon  my  conscience  they  said  so,  and  that  rascal,  the 
sergeant,  would  take  his  oath  of  it ; but  my  own  impression 
I’ll  never  disclose  to  the  hour  of  mv  death.” 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THEATRICALS. 

Our  sdance  at  the  mess  that  night  was  a late  one,  for  after 
we  had  discussed  some  coopers  of  claret,  there  was  a very 
general  public  feeling  in  favor  of  a broiled  bone  and  some 
deviled  kidneys,  followed  by  a very  ample  bowl  of  bishop, 
over  which  simple  condiments  we  talked  “ green-room  ” till 
near  the  break  of  day. 

From  having  been  so  long  away  from  the  corps  I had 
much  to  learn  of  their  doings  and  intentions  to  do,  and  heard 
with  much  pleasure  that  they  possessed  an  exceedingly 
handsome  theatre  well  stocked  with  scenery,  dresses,  and 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


170 

decorations ; that  they  were  at  the  pinnacle  of  public  estima- 
tion, from  what  they  had  already  accomplished,  and  calcu- 
lated on  the  result  of  my  appearance  to  crown  them  with 
honor.  I had  indeed  very  little  choice  left  me  in  the  matter; 
for  not  only  had  they  booked  me  for  a particular  part,  but  bills 
were  already  in  circulation,  and  sundry  little  three-cornered 
notes  enveloping  them  were  sent  to  the  elite  of  the  surround- 
ing country,  setting  forth  that  “ on  Friday  evening  the  com- 
mittee of  the  garrison  theatricals,  intending  to  perform  a 
dress  rehearsal  of  the  ‘Family  Party/  request  the  pleasure 

of  Mr. and  Mrs. ’s  company  on  the  occasion.  Mr. 

Lorrequer  will  undertake  the  part  of  Captain  Beaugarde. 
Supper  at  twelve.  An  answer  will  oblige.” 

The  sight  of  one  of  these  pleasant  little  epistles — of  which 
the  foregoing  is  a true  copy — was  presented  to  me  as  a great 
favor  that  evening,  it  having  been  agreed  upon  that  I was  to 
know  nothing  of  their  high  and  mighty  resolves  till  the 
following  morning.  It  was  to  little  purpose  that  I assured 
them  all,  collectively  and  individually,  that  of  Captain  Beau- 
garde  I absolutely  knew  nothing — had  never  read  the  piece 
— nor  even  seen  it  performed.  I felt,  too,  that  my  last  ap- 
pearance in  character  in  a “ Family  Party  ” was  anything 
but  successful ; and  I trembled  lest,  in  the  discussion  of  the 
subject,  some  confounded  allusion  to  my  adventure  at 
Cheltenham  might  come  out.  Happily  they  seemed  all  igno- 
rant of  this  ; and  fearing  to  bring  conversation  in  any  way  to 
the  matter  of  my  late  travels,  I fell  in  with  their  humor,  and 
agreed,  if  it  were  possible  in  the  limited  time  allowed  me,  to 
manage  it — I had  but  four  days — I should  undertake  the  char- 
acter. My  concurrence  failed  to  give  the  full  satisfaction  I 
had  expected,  and  they  so  habitually  did  what  they  pleased 
with  me,  that,  like  all  men  so  disposed,  I never  got  the  credit 
for  concession  which  a man  more  niggardly  of  his  services 
may  always  command. 

“ To  be  sure  you  will  do  it,  Harry,”  said  the  major ; 
“why  not?  I could  learn  the  thing  myself  in  a couple  cf 
hours,  as  for  that.” 

Now,  be  it  known  that  the  aforesaid  major  was  so  incor- 
rigibly slow  of  study,  and  dull  of  comprehension,  that  he  had 
been  successively  degraded  at  our  theatrical  board  from  the 
delivering  of  a stage  message  to  the  office  of  a check-taker. 

“He’s  so  devilish  good  in  the  love-scene,”  said  the  junior 
ensign,  with  the  white  eyebrows.  “ I say,  Curzon,  you’ll 


HA  RR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 1 7 1 

be  confoundedly  jealous  though,  for  he  is  to  play  with 
Fanny.” 

“ I rather  think  not,”  said  Curzon,  who  was  a little  tipsy. 

“ Oh,  yes/’  said  Frazer.  “ Hepton  is  right.  Lorrequer 
has  Fanny  for  his  ‘ Frou,’  and  upon  my  soul,  I should  feel 
tempted  to  takq  the  part  myself  upon  the  same  terms  ; though  I 
verily  believe  I should  forget  I was  acting,  and  make  fierce 
love  to  her  on  the  stage.” 

“ And  who  may  la  charmante  Fanny  be  ? ” said  I,  with 
something  of  the  air  of  the  “ Dey  of  Algiers  ” in  my  tone. 

“ Let  Curzon  tell  him,”  said  several  voices  together  ; “ he 
is  the  only  man  to  do  justice  to  such  perfection.” 

“ Quiz  away,  my  merry  men,”  said  Curzon  ; “all  I know 
is,  that  you  are  a confoundedly  envious  set  of  fellows  ; and 
if  so  lovely  a girl  had  thrown  her  eyes  on  one  amongst 
you ” 

“ Hip  ! hip  ! hurrah  ! ” said  old  Fitzgerald  ; “ Curzon  is 
a gone  man.  He’ll  be  off  to  the  palace  for  a licence  some 
fine  morning,  or  I know  nothing  of  such  matters.” 

“ Well,  Bat,”  said  I,  “ if  matters  are  reaMy  as  you  all  say, 
why  does  not  Curzon  take  the  part  you  destine  for  me  ? ” 

“ We  dare  not  trust  him,”  said  the  major.  “ Lord  bless 
you,  when  the  call-boy  would  sing  out  for  Captain  Beau- 
garde  in  the  second  act,  we’d  find  that  he  had  levanted 
with  our  best  slashed  trousers,  and  a bird  of  paradise  feather 
in  his  cap.”  * 

u Well,”  thought  I,  “this  is  better  at  least  than  I antici- 
pated, for  if  nothing  else  offers,  I shall  have  rare  fun  teas- 
ing my  friend  Charley  — for  it  was  evident  that  he  had  been 
caught  by  the  lady  in  question. 

“ And  so  you’ll  stay  with  us  ; give  me  your  hand— you 
are  a real  trump.”  These  words,  which  proceeded  from  a 
voice  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  were  addressed  to  my 
friend  Finucane. 

“ I’ll  stay  with  ye,  upon  my  conscience,”  said  Fin  ; “ ye 
have  a most  seductive  way  about  ye  ; and  a very  superior 
taste  in  milk  punch.” 

“ But,  doctor,”  said  I,  “ you  must  not  be  a drone  in  the 
hive  ; what  will  ye  do  for  us  ? You  should  be  a capital  Sir 
Lucius  O’Trigger,  if  we  could  get  up  the  Rivals.” 

“ My  forte  is  the  drum — the  big  drum  ; put  me  among 
what  the  Greeks  call  the  4 Mousikoi,’  and  I’ll  astonish  ye.” 

It  was  at  once  agreed  that  Fin  should  follow  the  bent  of 


*72 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


his  genius ; and  after  some  other  arrangements  for  the  rest  of 
the  party  we  separated  for  the  night,  having  previously  toasted 
the  “ Fanny,”  to  which  Curzon  attempted  to  reply,  but  sank, 
overpowered  by  punch  and  feelings,  and  looked  unutterable 
things,  without  the  power  to  frame  a sentence. 

During  the  time  which  intervened  between  the  dinner  and 
the  night  appointed  for  our  rehearsal,  I had  more  business 
upon  my  hands  than  a Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  the 
week  of  the  budget  being  produced.  The  whole  manage- 
ment of  every  department  fell,  as  usual,  to  my  share,  and 
all  those  who,  previously  to  my  arrival,  had  contributed  their 
quota  of  labor,  did  nothing  whatever  now  but  to  lounge 
about  the  stage,  or  sit  half  the  day  in  the  orchestra,  listening 
to  some  confounded  story  of  Finucane’s,  who  contrived  to 
have  an  everlasting  mob  of  actors,  scene-painters,  fiddlers, 
and  call-boys  always  about  him,  who,  from  their  uproarious 
mirth,  and  repeated  shouts  of  merriment,  nearly  drove  me 
distracted,  as  I stood  almost  alone  and  unassisted  in  the 
whole  management.  Of  la  belle  Fanny,  all  I learned  was, 
that  she  was  a professional  actress  of  very  considerable 
talent,  and  extremely  pretty  j that  Curzon  had  fallen  desper- 
ately in  love  with  her  the  only  night  she  had  appeared  on 
the  boards  there  j and  that,  to  avoid  his  absurd  persecution 
of  her,  she  had  determined  not  to  come  into  town  until  the 
morning  of  the  rehearsal,  she  being  at  that  time  on  a visit 
to  the  house  of  a country  gentleman  in  the  neighborhood. 
Here  was  a new  difficulty  I had  to  contend  with— to  go 
through  my  part  alone  was  out  of  the  question  to  making  it 
effective  ; and  I felt  so  worried  and  harassed  that  I often 
fairly  resolved  on  taking  the  wings  of  the  mail,  and  flying 
away  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  south  of  Ireland,  till  all 
was  still  and  tranquil  again.  By  degrees,  however,  I got 
matters  into  better  train,  and  by  getting  over  our  rehearsal 
early  before  Fin  appeared,  as  he  usually  slept  somewhat 
later  after  his  night  at  mess,  I managed  to  have  things  in 
something  like  order  : he  and  his  confounded  drum,  which, 
whenever  he  was  not  story-telling,  he  was  sure  to  be  practicing 
on,  being  in  fact  the  greatest  difficulties  opposed  to  my  mana- 
gerial functions.  One  property  he  possessed,  so  totally  at 
variance  with  all  habits  of  order,  that  it  completely  baffled 
me.  So  numerous  were  his  narratives,  that  no  occasion  could 
possibly  arise,  no  chance  expression  be  let  fall  on  the  stage, 
but  Fin  had  something  he  deemed  apropos,  and  which,  sans 


T-IARRY  LORREQUER. 


*73 


fagon,  he  at  once  related  for  the  benefit  of  all  whom  it  might 
concern  ; that  was  usually  the  entire  corps  dramatique,  who 
eagerly  turned  from  stage  directions  and  groupings,  to  laugh 
at  his  ridiculous  jests.  I shall  give  an  instance  of  this  habit 
of  interruption,  and  let  the  unhappy  wight  who  has  filled 
such  an  office  as  mine  pity  my  woes. 

I was  standing  one  morning  on  the  stage,  drilling  my 
“ corps,”  as  usual.  One  most  refractory  spirit,  to  whom  but 
a few  words  were  intrusted,  and  who  bungled  even  those,  I 
was  endeavoring  to  train  into  something  like  his  part. 

44  Come  now,  Elsmore,  try  it  again — just  so.  Yes,  come 
forward  in  this  manner — take  her  hand  tenderly — press  it  to 
your  lips  ; retreat  toward  the  flat,  and  then  bowing  deferen- 
tially—thus  say,  4 Good-night,  good-night  ’ — that’s  very  sim- 
ple, eh  ? Well,  now,  that’s  all  you  have  to  do,  and  that  brings 
you  over  here — so  you  make  your  exit  at  once.” 

44  Exactly  so,  Mr.  Elsmore,  always  contrive  to  be  near  the 
door  under  such  circumstances.  That  was  the  way  with  my 
poor  friend,  Curran.  Poor  Philpot,  when  he  dined  with  the 
Guild  of  Merchant  Tailors,  they  gave  him  a gold  box  with 
their  arms  upon  it— a goose  proper,  with  needles  saltier-wise, 
or  something  of  that  kind ; and  they  made  him  free  of  their 
1 ancient  and  loyal  corporation,’  and  gave  him  a very  grand 
dinner.  Well,  Curran  was  mighty  pleasant  and  agreeable, 
and  kept  them  laughing  all  night,  till  the  moment  he  rose  to 
go  away,  and  then  he  told  them  that  he  never  spent  so  happy 
an  evening,  and  all  that.  4 But,  gentlemen,’  said  he,  4 business 
has  its  calls,  I must  tear  myself  away  ; so  wishing  you  now  ’ 
— there  were  just  eighteen  of  them — 4 wishing  you  now  every 
happiness  and  prosperity,  permit  me  to  take  my  leave,’ — and 
here  he  stole  near  the  door — 4 to  take  my  leave  and  bid  you 
both  good-night.’ ” With  a running  fire  of  such  stories,  it 
may  be  supposed  how  difficult  was  my  task  in  getting  any- 
thing done  upon  the  stage. 

Well,  at  last  the  long-expected  Friday  arrived,  and  I arose 
m the  morning  with  all  that  peculiar  tourbillion  of  spirit  that 
a man  feels  when  he  is  half  pleased  and  whole  frightened  with 
the  labor  before  him.  I had  scarcely  accomplished  dressing 
when  a servant  tapped  at  my  door,  and  begged  to  know  if  I 
could  spare  a few  moments  to  speak  to  Miss  Ersler,  who  was 
in  the  drawing-room.  I replied*  of  course,  in  the  affirmative, 
and  rightly  conjecturing  that  my  fair  friend  must  be  the  lovely 
fanny  already  alluded  to,  followed  the  servant  downstairs, 


174 


HARRY  LORREQUER, 


“ Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  the  servant,  and  closing  the  doof 
behind  me,  left  me  in  sole  possession  of  the  lady. 

“Will  you  do  me  the  favor  to  sit  here,  Mr.  Lorrequer,” 
said  one  of  the  sweetest  voices  in  the  world,  as  she  made 
room  for  me  on  the  sofa  beside  her.  “ I am  particularly 
short-sighted ; so  pray  sit  near  me,  as  I really  cannot  talk  to 
any  one  I don’t  see.” 

I blundered  out  some  platitude  of  a compliment  to  hei 
eyes — the  fullest  and  most  lovely  blue  that  ever  man  gazed 
into — at  which  she  smiled  as  if  pleased,  and  continued, 
“ Now,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I have  really  been  longing  for  your  com- 
ing ; for  your  friends  of  the  — th  are  doubtless  very  dashing, 
spirited  young  gentlemen,  perfectly  versed  in  war’s  alarms  ; 
but  pardon  me  if  I say  that  a more  wretched  company  of 
strolling  wretches  never  graced  a barn.  Now,  come,  don’t  be 
angry ; but  let  me  proceed.  Like  all  amateur  people,  they 
have  the  happy  knack  in  distributing  the  characters,  to  put 
every  man  in  his  most  unsuitable  position,  and  then  that  poor, 
dear  thing,  Curzon — I hope  he’s  not  a friend  of  yours,  by  some 
dire  fatality,  always  plays  the  lover’s  parts,  ha  ! ha  ! ha ! True, 
I assure  you,  so  that  if  you  had  not  been  announced  as  coming 
this  week,  I should  have  left  them  and  gone  on  to  Bath.” 

Here  she  rose  and  adjusted  her  brown  ringlets  at  the  glass, 
giving  me  ample  time  to  admire  one  of  the  most  perfect  fig- 
ures I ever  beheld.  She  was  most  becomingly  dressed,  and 
betrayed  a foot  and  ankle  which,  for  symmetry  and  “ chas- 
sures ,”  might  have  challenged  the  Rue  Rivoli  itself  to  match  it. 

My  first  thought  was  poor  Curzon ; my  second,  happy  and 
thrice  fortunate  Harry  Lorrequer.  There  was  no  time,  how- 
ever, for  indulgence  in  such  very  pardonable  gratulation,  so 
I at  once  proceeded  “ pour  faire  Vaimable ,”  to  profess  my 
utter  inability  to  do  justice  to  her  undoubted  talents,  but 
slyly  added,  that  in  the  love-making  part  of  the  matter  she 
should  never  be  'able  to  discover  that  I was  not  in  earnest. 
We  then  chatted  gayly  for  upward  of  an  hour,  until  the 
arrival  of  her  friend’s  carriage  was  announced,  when  tender- 
ing mostj  graciously  her  hand,  she  smiled  benignly,  and  say- 
ing, “ ail  revoir  done”  drove  off. 

As  I stood  upon  the  steps  of  the  hotel,  viewing  her  “ out 
of  the  visible  horizon,”  I was  joined  by  Curzon,  who  evi- 
dently, from  his  self-satisfied  air,  and  jaunty  gait,  little  knew 
how  he  stood  in  the  fair  Fanny’s  estimation. 

“Very  pretty, very  pretty  indeed,  deeper  and  deeper  still,” 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


*75 


cried  he,  alluding  to  my  most  courteous  salutation  as  the 
carriage  rounded  the  corner,  and  its  lovely  occupant  kissed 
her  hand  once  more.  “ I say,  Harry,  my  friend,  you  don’t 
think  that  was  meant  for  you,  I should  hope  ? ” 

“What ! the  kiss  of  the  hand?  Yes,  faith,  but  I do.” 

“ Well,  certainly,  that  is  good  ! why,  man,  she  just  saw  me 
coming  up  that  instant.  She  and  I — we  understand  each 
other — never  mind,  don’t  be  cross — mo  fault  of  yours,  you 
know.” 

“ Ah,  so  she  is  taken  with  you  ? ” said  I.  “ Eh,  Charley  ? ” 

“ Why,  I believe  that  I may  confess  to  you  the  real  state 
of  matters.  She  was  devilishly  struck  with  me  the  first  time 
we  rehearsed  together.  We  soon  got  up  a little  flirtation  ; 
but  the  other  night  when  I played  Mirabel  to  her,  it  finished 
the  affair.  She  was  quite  nervous,  and  could  scarcely  go 
through  with  her  part.  I saw  it,  and  upon  my  soul  I am 
sorry  for  it ; she’s  a prodigiously  fine  girl — such  lips  and 
such  teeth  ! Egad,  I was  delighted  when  you  came ; for, 
you  see,  I was  in  a manner  obliged  to  take  one  line  of  char- 
acter, and  I saw  pretty  plainly  where  it  must  end  ; and  you 
know  with  you  it’s  quite  different,  she’ll  laugh  and  chat,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,  but  she’ll  not  be  carried  away  by  her 
feelings  ; you  understand  me  ? ” 

“ Oh,  perfectly  : it’s  quite  different,  as  you  observed.” 

If  I had  not  been  supported  internally  during  this  short 
dialogue  by  the  recently  expressed  opinion  of  the  dear  Fanny 
herself  upon  my  friend  Curzon’s  merits,  I think  I should 
have  been  tempted  to  take  the  liberty  of  wringing  his  neck 
off.  However,  the  affair  was  much  better  as  it  stood,  as  I 
had  only  to  wait  a little  with  proper  patience,  and  I had  no 
fears  but  that  my  friend  Charley  would  become  the  hero  of  a 
very  pretty  episode  for  the  mess. 

“ So  I suppose  you  must  feel  considerably  bored  by  this 
kind  of  thing,”  I said,  endeavoring  to  draw  him  out. 

“ Why,  I do,”  replied  he,  “and  I do  not.  The  girl  is  very 
pretty.  The  place  is  dull  in  the  morning ; and  altogether  it 
helps  to  fill  up  time.” 

“Well,”  said  I,  “you  are  always  fortunate,  Curzon.  You 
have  ever  your  share  of  what  floating  luck  the  world 
affords.” 

“ It  is  not  exactly  all  luck,  my  dear  friend  ; for,  as  I shall 
explain  to  you ” 

“Not  now,”  replied  I,  “ for  I have  not  yet  breakfasted.” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


176 

So  saying,  I turned  into  the  coffee-room,  leaving  the  worthy 
adjutant  to  revel  in  his  fancied  conquest,  and  pity  such  un- 
fortunates myself. 

After  an  early  dinner  at  the  club-house,  I hastened  down 
to  the  theatre,  where  numerous  preparations  for  the  night 
were  going  forward.  The  green-room  was  devoted  to  the 
office  of  a supper-room,  to  which  the  audience  had  been  in- 
vited. The  dressing-rooms  were  many  of  them  filled  with 
the  viands  destined  for  the  entertainment.  Where,  among 
the  wooden  fowls  and  “ impracticable  ” flagons,  were  to  be 
seen  very  imposing  pasties  and  flasks  of  champagne,  littered 
together  in  the  most  admirable  disorder.  The  confusion 
naturally  incidental  to  all  private  theatricals,  was  tenfold  in- 
creased by  the  circumstances  of  our  projected  supper.  Cooks 
and  scene-shifters,  fiddlers  and  waiters,  were  most  inextricably 
mingled,  and,  as  in  all  similar  cases,  the  least  important  func- 
tionaries took  the  greatest  airs  upon  them,  and  appropriated 
without  hesitation  whatever  came  to  their  hands — thus  the 
cook  would  not  have  scrupled  to  light  a fire  with  the  violon- 
cello of  the  orchestra  ; and  I actually  caught  one  of  the  u gens 
de  cuisine  ” making  a “ souffle  ”•  in'  a brass  helmet  I had  once 
worn  when  astonishing  the  world  as  Coriolanus. 

Six  o’clock  struck.  In  another  short  hour  and  we  begin, 
thought  I,  with  a sinking  heart,  as  I looked  upon  the  littered 
stage  crowded  with  hosts  of  fellows  that  had  nothing  to  do 
there.  Figaro  himself  never  wished  for  ubiquity  more  than 
I did,  as  I hastened  from  place  to  ‘place,  entreating,  cursing, 
begging,  scolding,  execrating,  and  imploring  by  turns.  To 
mend  the  matter,  the  devils  in  the  orchestra  had  begun  to 
tune  their  instruments,  and  I had  to  bawl  like  a boatswain 
of  a man-of-war  to  be  heard  by  the  person  beside  me. 

As  seven  o’clock  struck  I peeped  through  the  small  aper- 
ture in  the  curtain,  and  saw,'  to  my  satisfaction,  mingled,  I 
confess,  withfeai^  that  the  house  was  nearly  filled — the  lower 
tier  of  boxes  entirely  so.  There  were  a great  many  ladies 
handsomely  dressed,  chatting  gayly  with  their  chaperons, 
and  I recognized  some  of  my  acquaintances  on  every  side  ; 
in  fact,  there  was  scarcely  a family  of  rank  in  the  county 
that  had  not  at  least  some  members  of  it  present.  As  the 
orchestra  struck  up  the  overture  to  Don  Giovanni,  I retired 
from  my  place  to  inspect  the  arrangements  behind. 

Before  the  performance  of  the  “ Family  Party  ” we  were 
to  have  a little  one-act  piece  called  “ A Day  in  Madrid,” 


HARR  V LORREQUER.  1 7 7 

written  by  myself— the  principal  characters  being  expressly 
composed  for  “ Miss  Ersler  and  Mr.  Lorrequer.” 

The  story  of  this  trifle  it  is  not  necessary  to  allude  to ; 
indeed,  if  it  were,  I should  scarcely  have  patience  to  do  so, 
so  connected  is  my  recollection  of  it  with  the  distressing 
incident  which  followed. 

In  the  first  scene  of  the  piece,  the  curtain  rising  displays 
la  belle  Fanny  sitting  at  her  embroidery  in  the  midst  of  a 
beautiful  garden,  surrounded  with  statues,  fountains,  etc.  ; 
at  the  back  is  seen  a pavilion  in  the  ancient  Moorish  style  of 
architecture,  over  which  hang  the  branches  of  some  large  and 
shady  trees ; she  comes  forward,  expressing  her  impatience 
at  the  delay  of  her  lover,  whose  absence  she  tortures  herself 
to  account  for  by  a hundred  different  suppositions,  and  after 
a very  sufficient  expose  of  her  feelings,  and  some  little  explana- 
tory details  of  her  private  history,  conveying  a very  clear 
intimation  of  her  own  amiability,  and  her  guardian’s  cruelty, 
she  proceeds,  after  the  fashion  of  other  young  ladies  similarly 
situated,  to  give  utterance  to  her  feelings  by  a song ; after, 
therefore,  a suitable  prelude  from  the  orchestra,  for  which, 
considering  the  impassionate  state  of  her  mind,  she  waits 
patiently,  she  comes  forward  and  begins  a melody  : 

“ O,  why  is  he  far  from  the  heart  that  adores  him  ? ” 

in  which  for  two  verses,  she  proceeds  with  sundry  solfeggios 
to  account  for  the  circumstances,  and  show  her  own  disbelief 
of  the  explanation  in  a very  satisfactory  manner.  Meanwhile, 
for  I must  not  expose  my  reader  to  any  anxiety  on  my  account, 
similar  to  what  the  dear  Fanny  here  labored  under,  I was 
making  the  necessary  preparations  for  flying  to  her  presence, 
and  clasping  her  to  my  heart — that  is  to  say,  1 had  already 
gummed  on  a pair  of  mustaches,  had  corked  and  arched  a 
pair  of  ferocious  eyebrows,  which,  with  my  rouged  cheeks, 
gave  me  a look  half  Whiskerando,  half  Grimaldi ; these 
operations  were  performed,  from  the  stress  of  circumstances, 
sufficiently  near  the  object  of  my  affections,  to  afford  me 
the  pleasing  satisfaction  of  hearing,  from  her  own  sweet  lips, 
her  solicitude  about  me.  In  a word,  all  the  dressing-rooms 
but  two  were  filled  with  hampers  of  provisions,  glass,  china, 
and  crockery,  and  from  absolute  necessity,  I had  no  other 
spot  where  I could  attire  myself  unseen,  except  in  the  iden- 
tical pavilion  already  alluded  to.  Here,  however,  I was  quite 
secure,  and  had  abundant  time  also,  for  I was  not  to  appear 

12 


I/O 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


till  scene  the  second,  when  I was  to  come  forward  in  full 
Spanish  costume,  “ every  inch  a Hidalgo  ” Meantime  Fanny 
had  been  singing — 

“ O,  why  is  he  far,”  etc.,  etc. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  last  verse,  just  as  she  repeats  the 
words  “ why,  why,  why,”  in  a very  distracted  and  melting 
cadence,  a voice  behind  her  startles  her.  She  turns  and 
beholds  her  guardian — so  at  least  runs  the  course  of  events 
in  the  real  drama — that  it  should  follow  thus  now,  however, 
“ Diis  alitur  visum,” — for  just  as  she  came  to  the  very  mov- 
ing apostrophe  alluded  to,  and  called  out,  “ Why  comes  he 
not  ? ” a gruff  voice  from  behind  answered  in  a strong  Cork 
brogue—1 “ Ah  ! would  you  have  him  come  in  a state  of 
nature  ? ” At  the  instant  a loud  whistle  rang  through  the 
house,  and  the  pavilion  scene  slowly  drew  up,  discovering 
me,  Harry  Lorrequer,  seated  on  a small  stool  before  a 
cracked  looking-glass,  my  only  habiliment,  as  I am  an  honest 
man,  being  a pair  of  long  white  silk  stockings,  and  a very 
richly  enbroidered  shirt  with  point  lace  collar.  The  shouts 
of  laughter  are  yet  in  my  ears  ; the  loud  roar  of  inextinguish- 
able mirth  which  after  the  first  brief  pause  of  astonishment 
gave  way,  shook  the  entire  building.  My  recollection  may 
well  have  been  confused  at  such  a moment  of  unutterable 
shame  and  misery  ; yet,  I clearly  remembered  seeing  Fanny, 
the  sweet  Fanny  herself,  fall  into  an  arm-chair  nearly  suffo- 
cated with  convulsions  of  laughter.  I cannot  go  on  ; what 
I did  I know  not.  I suppose  my  exit  was  additionally  ludi- 
crous, for  a new  eclat  de  rire  followed  me  out.  I rushed  out 
of  the  theatre,  and  wrapping  only  my  cloak  round  me,  ran 
without  stopping,  to  the  barracks.  But  I must  cease  ; these 
are  woes  too  sacred  for  even  confessions  like  mine,  so  let  me 
close  the  curtain  of  my  room  and  my  chapter  together,  and 
©ay  adieu  for  a season. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


179 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  WAGER. 

It  might  have  been  about  six  weeks  after  the  events 
detailed  in  my  last  chapter  had  occurred,  that  Curzon  broke 
suddenly  into  my  room  one  morning  before  I had  risen,  and 
throwing  a precautionary  glance  around,  as  if  to  assure  him- 
self that  we  were  alone,  seizecf  my  hand  with  a most  unusual 
earnestness,  and  steadfastly  looking  at  me,  said  : 

“ Harry  Lorrequer,  will  you  stand  by  me  ? ” 

So  sudden  and  unexpected  was  his  appearance  at  the 
moment,  that  I really  felt  but  half  awake,  and  kept  puzzling 
myself  for  an  explanation  to  the  scene,  rather  than  thinking 
of  a reply  to  his  question  ; perceiving  which,  and  arguing 
but  badly  from  my  silence,  he  continued  : 

“ Am  I then  really  deceived  in  what  I believe  to  be  an 
old  and  true  friend  ? ” 

“ Why,  what  the  devil’s  the  matter  ?”  I cried  out.  “If 
you  are  in  a scrape,  why,  of  course  you  know  I’m  your  man  ; 
but  still,  it’s  only  fair  to  let  one  know  something  of  the 
matter  in  the  mean  while.” 

“ In  a scrape,”  said  he,  with  a long  drawn  sigh,  intended 
to  beat  the  whole  Minerva  jyress  in  its  romantic  cadence. 

“ Well,  but  get  on  a bit,|T  sjjaid  I,  rather  impatiently ; “ who 
is  the  fellow  you’ve  got  the  jrow  with  ? Not  one  of  ours,'  I 
trust  ? ” 

“ Ah,  my  dear  Hal,”  said  he,  in  the  same  melting  tone  as 
before,  “ how  your  imagination  does  run  upon  rows,  and 
broils,  and  duelling  rencontres,”  (he,  the  speaker,  be  it  known 
to  the  reader,  was  the  fire-eater  of  the  regiment),  “ as  if  life 
had  nothing  better  to  offer  than  the  excitement  of  a chal- 
lenge, or  the  mock  heroism  of  a meeting.” 

As  he  made  a dead  pause  here,  after  which  he  showed  no 
disposition  to  continue,  I merely  added  : 

“ Well,  at  this  rate  of  proceeding  we  shall  get  at  the  mattei 
in  hand,  on  our  way  out  to  Corfu,  for  I hear  we  are  the  next 
regiment  for  the  Mediterranean.” 


If  A XX  V L OXXEQ  UEX. 


tHo 

The  observation  seemed  to  have  some  effect  in  rousing 
him  from  his  lethargy,  and  he  added  : 

“ If  you  only  knew  the  nature  of  the  attachment,  and  how 
completely  all  my  future  hopes  are  concerned  upon  the 
issue ” 

“ Ho ! ” said  I,  “ so  it’s  a money  affair,  is  it  ? and  is  it  old 
Watson  has  issued  the  writ  ? I’ll  bet  a hundred.” 

“ Well,  upon  my  soul,  Lorrequer,”  said  he,  jumping  from 
his  chair,  and  speaking  with  more  energy  than  he  had  before 
evinced,  “you  are,  without  exception,  the  most  worldly- 
minded,  cold-blooded  fellow  I ever  met.  What  have  I said 
that  could  have  led  you  to  suppose  I had  either  a duel  or  a 
lav/suit  upon  my  hands  this  morning  ? Learn,  once  and  for 
all,  man,  that  I am  in  love — desperately  and  over  head  and 
ears  in  love.” 

u Et puis  ? ” said  I,  coolly. 

“And  intend  to  marry  immediately.” 

“ Oh,  very  well,”  said  I,  “ the  fighting  and  debt  will  come 
later;  that’s  all;  But  to  return — now  for  the  lady.” 

“ Come,  you  must  make  a guess.” 

“ Why,  then,  I really  must  confess  my  utter  inability  ; for 
your  attentions  have  been  so  generally  and  impartially  dis- 
tributed since  our  arrival  here  that  it  may  be  any  fair  one, 
from  your  venerable  partner  at  whist  last  evening  to  Mrs. 
Henderson,  the  pastry-cook,  inclusive,  for  whose  macaroni 
and  cherry-brandy  your  feelings  have  been  as  warm  as  they 
are  constant.” 

“ Come,  no  more  quizzing,  Hal.  You  surely  must  have 
remarked  that  lovely  girl  I waj&^&d  with  at  Power’s  ball  on 
Tuesday  last.” 

“ Lovely  girl  ! Why,  in  all  seriousness,  you  don’t  mean 
the  small  woman  with  the  tow  wig.” 

“ No,  I do  not  mean  any  such  thing — but  a beautiful  creat- 
ure with  the  brightest  locks  in  Christendom — the  very  light 
brown  waving  ringlets  Dominicheno  loved  to  paint,  and  a 
foot — did  you  see  her  foot  ? ” 

“ No  ; that  was  rather  difficult,  for  she  kept  continually 
bobbing  up  and  down,  like  a boy’s  cork-float  in  a fish-pond.” 

“ Stop  there.  I shall  not  permit  this  any  longer — I came 
not  here  to  listen  to ” 

“ But,  Curzon,  my  boy,  you’re  not  angry  ? ” 

“ Yes,  sir,  I am  angry.” 

“Why,  surely,  you  have  not  been  serious  all  this  time?* 


HARRY  LORREQUER 


lU 

u And  why  not,  pray  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! I don’t  exactly  know — that  is,  faith,  I scarcely, 
thought  you  were  in  earnest,  for  if  I did,  of  course  I should 
honestly  have  confessed  to  you  that  the  lady  in  question 
struck  me  as  one  of  the  handsomest  persons  I ever  met.” 

“ You  think  so  really,  Hal  ?” 

“ Certainly  I do,  and  the  opinion  is  not  mine  alone  ; she 
is,  in  fact,  universally  admired.” 

“ Come,  Harry,  excuse  my  bad  temper.  I ought  to  hatfe 
known  you  better — give  me  your  hand,  old  boy,  and  wish 
me  joy,  for  with  your  aiding  and  abetting  she  is  mine  to-mor- 
row morning.” 

I wrung  his  hand  heartily — congratulating  myself,  mean- 
while, how  happily  I had  got  out  of  my  scrape  ; as  I now,  for 
the  first  time,  perceived  that  Curzon  was  bona  fide  in  earnest. 

“ So,  you  will  stand  by  me,  Hal  ? ” said  he. 

“Of  course.  Only  show  me  how,  and  I am  perfectly  at 
your  service.  Anything  from  riding  postilion  on  the  leaders 
to  officiating  as  bridemaid,  and  I am  your  man.  And  if  you 
are  in  want  of  such  a functionary,  I shall  stand  in  loco  pa- 
rentis to  the  lady,  and  give  her  away  with  as  much  onction 
and  tenderness  as  though  I had  as  many  marriageable 
daughters  as  King  Priam  himself.  It  is  with  me  in  marriage 
as  in  duelling — I’ll-  be  anything  rather  than  a principal  ; 
and  I have  long  since  disapproved  of  either  method  as  a 
means  of  ‘ obtaining  satisfaction.’  ” 

“Ah,  Harry,  I shall  not  be  discouraged  by  your  sneers. 
You’ve  been  rather  unlucky,  I’m  aware ; but  now  to  return. 
Your  office,  on  this  occasion,  is  an  exceeding  simple  one, 
and  yet  that  which  I could  only  confide  to  one  as  much  my 
friend  as  yourself.  You  must  carry  my  dearest  Louisa  off.” 

“ Carry  her  off  ? Where  ? — when  ? — how  ? ” 

“ All  that  I have  already  arranged,  as  you  shall  hear.” 

“Yes.  But  first  of  all  please  to  explain  why,  if  going  to 
run  away  with  the  lady,  you  don’t  accompany  her  yourself  ? ” 

“ Ah  ! I knew  you  would  say  that ; I could  have  laid  a 
wager  you’d  ask  that  question,  for  it  is  just  that  very  expla- 
nation will  show  all  the  native  delicacy  and  feminine  propriety 
of  my  darling  Loo  ; and  first,  I must  tell  you,  that  old  Sir 
Alfred  Jonson,  her  father,  has  some  confounded  prejudice 
against  the  army,  and  never  would  consent  to  her  marriage 
with  a red-coat — so  that,  his  consent  being  out  of  the  question, 
our  only  resource  is  an  elopement. 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


182 

“ Louisa  consents  to  this,  but  only  upon  one  condition— 
and  this  she  insists  upon  so  firmly — I had  almost  said  ob- 
stinately— that,  notwithstanding  all  my  arguments  and  repxe- 
sentations,  and  even  entreaties  against  it,  she  remains  inflex- 
ible ; so  that  I have  at  length  yielded,  and  she  is  to  have 
her  own  way.” 

“ Well,  and  what  is  the  condition  she  lays  such  stress 
upon  ? ” 

“ Simply  this — that  we  are  never  to  travel  a mile  together 
until  I obtain  my  right  to  do  so,  by  making  her  my  wife. 
She  has  got  some  trumpery  notions  in  her  head  that  any 
slight  transgression,  over  the  bounds  of  delicacy,  made  by 
women  before  marriage  is  ever  after  remembered  by  the 
husband  to  their  disadvantage  ; and  she  is,  therefore,  re- 
solved not  to  sacrifice  her  principle  even  at  such  a crisis  as 
the  present.” 

“ All  very  proper,  I have  no  doubt ; but  still,  pray  explain 
what  I confess  appears  somewhat  strange  to  me  at  present. 
How  does  so  very  delicately-minded  a person  reconcile  her- 
self to  travelling  with  a perfect  stranger  under  such  circum- 
stances ? ” 

“ That  I can  explain  perfectly  to  you.  You  must  know 
that  when  my  darling  Loo  consented  to  take  this  step,  which 
I induced  her  to  do  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  she  made  the 
proviso  I have  just  mentioned  ; I at  once  showed  her  that  I 
had  no  maiden  aunt  or  married  sister  to  confide  her  to  at 
such  a moment,  and  what  was  to  be  done  ? She  immediately 
replied^  i Have  you  no  elderly  brother  officer,  whose  years 
and  discretion  will  put  the  transaction  in  such  a light  as  to 
silence  the  slanderous  tongues  of  the  world  ? for  with  such  a 
man  I am  quite  ready  and  willing  to  trust  myself/  You  see 
I was  hard  pushed  there.  What  could  I do  ? — whom  could 
I select?  Old  Hayes,  the  paymaster,  is  always  tipsy;  Jones 
is  five-and-forty — but  still  if  he  found  out  thefe  were  thirty 
thousand  pounds  in  the  case,  egad ! I’m  not  so  sure  I’d  have 
found  my  betrothed  at  the  end  of  the  stage.  You  were 
my  only  hope  ; I knew  I could  rely  upon  you.  You  would 
carry  on  the  whole  affair  with  tact  and  discretion  ; and  as  to 
age  your  stage  experience  would  enable  you,  with  a little 
assistance  from  costume,  to  pass  muster  ; besides  that,  I 
have  always  represented  you  as  the  very  Methuselah  of  the 
corps ; and  in  the  gray  dawn  of  an  autumnal  morning — with 
maiden  bashfulness  assisting — the  scrutiny  is  not  likely  to 


HARRY  LORRE Q C/E  R, 


183 

be  a dose  one.  So,  now,  your  consent  is  alone  wanting  to 
complete  the  arrangements,  which,  before  this  time  to-mor- 
row, shall  have  made  me  the  happiest  of  mortals.” 

Having  expressed,  in  fitting  terms,  my  full  sense  of  obli- 
gation for  the  delicate  flattery  with  which  he  pictured  me  as 
“ Old  Lorrequer  ” to  the  lady,  I begged  a more  detailed  ac- 
count of  his  plan,  which  I shall  shorten  for  my  reader’s  sake 
by  the  following  brief  expose : 

A post-chaise  and  four  was  to  be  in  waiting  at  five  o’clock 
in  the  morning  to  convey  me  to  Sir  Alfred  Jonson’s  resi- 
dence, about  twelve  miles  distant.  There  I was  to  be  met 
by  a lady  at  the  gate  lodge,  who  was  subsequently  to  accom- 
pany me  to  a small  village  on  the  Nore,  where  an  old  col- 
lege friend  of  Curzon’s  happened  to  reside  as  parson,  and 
by  whom  the  treaty  was  to  be  concluded. 

This  was  all  simple  and  clear  enough — the  only  condition 
necessary  to  insure  success  being  punctuality,  particularly 
on  the  lady’s  part.  As  to  mine,  I readily  promised  my  best 
aid  and  warmest  efforts  in  my  friend’s  behalf. 

“There  is  only  one  thing  more,”  said  Curzon.  “ Louisa’s 
younger  brother  is  a devilish  hot-headed,  wild  sort  of  a 
fellow ; and  it  would  be  as  well,  just  for  precaution’s  sake, 
to  have  your  pistols  along  vith  you,  if,  by  any  chance,  he 
should  make  out  what  was  goi  g forward — not  but  that  you 
know  if  anything  serious  was  to  take  place,  I should  be  the 
person  to  tak^  all  that  upon  my  hands.” 

“ Oh  ! of  course — I understand,”  ;aid  I.  Meanwhile  I 
could  not  help  running  over  in  my  mind  the  pleasant  possi- 
bilities such  an  adventure  presented,  heartily  wishing  that 
Curzon  had  been  content  to  marry  by  banns,  or  any  other  of 
the  legitimate  modes  in  use,  without  risking  his  friend’s  bones. 
The  other  pros  and  cons  of  the  matter,  with  full  and  accurate 
directions  as  to  the  road  to  be  taken  on  obtaining  possession 
of  the  lady,  being  all  arranged,  we  parted,  I to  settle  my  cos- 
tume and  appearance  for  my  first  performance  in  an  old  man’s 
part,  and  Curzon  to  obtain  a short  leave  for  a few  days  from 
the  commanding  officer  of  the  regiment. 

When  we  again  met,  which  .. , at  thd  mess-table,  it  was 
not  without  evidence  on  cither  side  of  that  peculiar  conscious- 
ness which  persons  feel  who  have,  or  think  they  have,  some 
secret  in  common,  which  the  world  wots  not  of.  Curzon’s 
unusually  quick  and  excited  manner  would  at  once  have 
struck  any  close ; observer  as  indicating  the  eve  of  some 


184 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


important  step,  no  less  than  continual  allusions  to  whatever 
was  going  on,  by  sly  and  equivocal  jokes  and  ambiguous  jests. 
Happily,  however,  on  the  present  occasion,  the  party  were 
otherwise  occupied  than  watching  him,  being  most  profoundly 
and  learnedly  engaged  in  discussing  medicine  and  matters 
medical  with  all  the  acute  and  accurate  knowledge  which 
characterizes  such  discussions  among  the  non-medical  public. 

The  present  conversation  originated  from  some  mention 
our  senior  surgeon,  Fitzgerald,  had  just  made  of  a consult- 
ation which  he  was  invited  to  attend  on  the  next  morning, 
at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles,  and  which  necessitated  him 
to  start  at  a most  uncomfortably  early  hour.  While  he 
continued  to  deplore  the  hard  fate  of  such  men  as  himself, 
so  eagerly  sought  after  by  the  world  that  their  own  hours 
were  eternally  broken  in  upon  by  external  claims,  the  juniors 
were  not  sparing  of  their  mirth  on  the  occasion,  at  the  expense 
of  the  worthy  doctor,  who,  in  plain  truth,  had  never  been 
disturbed  by  a request  like  the  present  within  any  one’s 
memory.  Some  asserted  that  the  whole  thing  was  a puff, 
got  up  by  Fitz  himself,  who  was  only  going  to  have  a day’s 
partridge-shooting ; others  hinted  that  it  was  a blind,  to 
escape  the  vigilance  of  Mrs.  Fitzgerald — a well-known  virago 
in  the  regiment — while  Fitz  enjoyed  himself ; and  a third 
party,  pretending  to  sympathize  with  the  doctor,  suggested 
that  a hundred  pounds  would  be  the  least  he  could  possibly 
be  offered  for  such  services  as  his  on  so  grave  an  occasion. 

“ No,  no,  only  fifty,”  said  Fitz,  gravely. 

“ Fifty  ! Why,  you  tremendous  old  humbug,  you  don’t 
mean  to  say  you’ll  make  fifty  pounds  before  we  are  out  of 
our  beds  in  the  morning  ? ” cried  one. 

“ I’ll  take  your  bet  on  it,”  said  the  doctor,  who  had,  in 
this  instance,  reason  to  suppose  his  fee  would  be  a large  one. 

During  this  discussion,  the  claret  had  been  pushed  round 
rather  freely  ; and  fully  bent,  as  I was,  upon  the  adventure 
before  me,  I had  taken  my  share  of  it  as  a preparation.  I 
thought  of  the  amazing  prize  I was  about  to  be  instrumental 
in  securing  for  my  friend — for  the  lady  had  really  thirty 
thousand  pounds — and  I could  not  conceal  my  triumph 
at  such  a prospect  of  success  in  comparison  with  the 
meaner  object  of  ambition.  They  all  seemed  to  envy  poor 
Fitzgerald.  I struggled  with  my  secret  for  some  time — but 
my  pride  and  the  claret  together  got  the  better  of  me,  and  I 
called  out,  “ Fifty  pounds  on  it,  then,  that  before  ten  to* 


HA  RR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


i*5 

morrow  morning,  I'll  make  a better  hit  of  it  than  you — and 
the  mess  shall  decide  between  us  afterwards  as  to  the 
winner. 

“ And  if  you  will,”  said  I,  seeing  some  reluctance  on  Fitz’s 
part  to  take  the  wager,  and  getting  emboldened  in  conse- 
quence, “ let  the  judgment  be  pronounced  over  a couple  of 
dozen  of  champagne,  paid  by  the  loser.” 

This  was  a coup  d'etat  on  my  part,  for  I knew  at  once 
that  there  were  so  many  parties  to  benefit  by  the  bet,  ter- 
minate which  way  it  might,  there  could  be  no  possibility  of 
evading  it.  My  ruse  succeeded,  and  poor  Fitzgerald,  fairly 
badgered  into  a wager,  the  terms  of  which  he  could  not  in  the 
least  comprehend,  was  obliged  to  sign  the  conditions  inserted 
in  the  adjutant’s  note-book — his  greatest  hope  in  so  doing 
being  in  the  quantity  of  wine  he  had  seen  me  drink  during 
the  evening.  As  for  myself,  the  bet  was  no  sooner  made  than 
I began  to  think  upon  the  very  little  chance  I had  of  winning 
it ; for  even  supposing  my  success  perfect  in  the  department 
allotted  to  me,  it  might  with  great  reason  be  doubted  what 
peculiar  benefit  I myself  derived  as  a counterbalance  to  the 
fee  of  the  doctor.  For  this,  my  only  trust  lay  in  the  justice 
of  a decision  which  I conjectured  would  lean  more  toward 
the  goodness  of  a practical  joke  than  the  equity  of  the  trans- 
action. The  party  at  mess  soon  after  separated,  and  I wished 
my  friend  good-night  for  the  last  time  before  meeting  him  as 
a bridegroom. 

I arranged  everything  in  order  for  my  start.  My  pistol- 
case  I placed  conspicuously  before  me,  to  avoid  being  for- 
gotten in  the  haste  of  departure  ; and  having  ordered  my 
servant  to  sit  up  all  night  in  the  guard-room  until  he  heard 
the  carriage  at  the  barrack-gate,  threw  myself  on  my  bed, 
but  not  to  sleep.  The  adventure  I was  about  to  engage  in 
suggested  to  my  mind  a thousand  associations,  into  which 
many  of  the  scenes  I have  already  narrated  entered.  I 
thought  how  frequently  I had  myself  been  on  the  verge  of 
that  state  which  Curzon  was  about  to  try,  and  how  it  always 
happened  that  when  nearest  to  success,  failure  had  intervened. 
From  my  very  school-boy  days  my  love  adventures  had 
the  same  unfortunate  abruptness  in  their  issue;  and  there 
seemed  to  be  something  very  like  a fatality  in  the  invariable 
unsuccess  of  my  efforts  at  marriage.  I feared,  too,  that  my 
friend  Curzon  had  placed  himself  tin  very  unfortunate  hands 
—if  augury  were  to  be  relied  upon.  Something  will  surely 


HARR  y LORREQUER. 


t&O 

happen,  thought  I,  from  my  confounded  ill-luck,  and  all  will 
be  blown  up.  Wearied  at  last  with  thinking,  I fell  into  a 
sound  sleep  for  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  at  the  end  of 
which  I was  awoke  by  my  servant  informing  me  that  a chaise 
and  four  were  drawn  up  at  the  end  of  Barrack  Lane. 

“ Why,  surely,  they  are  too  early,  Stubbes  ? It’s  only  four 
o’clock.” 

“Yes,  sir;  but  they  say  that  the  road  for  eight  miles  is 
?ery  bad,  and  they  must  go  it  almost  at  a walk.” 

That  is  certainly  pleasant,  thought  I ; but  I’m  in  for  it 
?iovv,  so  can’t  help  it. 

In  a few  minutes  I was  up  and  dressed,  and  so  perfectly 
transformed  by  the  addition  of  a brown  scratch-wig  and 
"arge  green  spectacles,  and  a deep-flapped  waistcoat,  that 
iiy  servant,  on  re-entering  my  room,  could  not  recognize  me. 
[ followed  him  now  across  the  barrack-yard,  as  with  my 
pistol-case  under  one  arm  and  a lantern  in  his  hand  he  pro- 
:eeded  to  the  barrack-gate. 

As  I passed  beneath  the  adjutant’s  window  I saw  a light 
■ — the  sash  was  quickly  thrown  open,  and  Curzon  appeared. 

“ Is  that  you,  Harry  ? ” 

“ Yes — when  do  you  start  ? ” 

“In  about  two  hours.  I’ve  only  eight  miles  to  go — you 
have  upward  of  twelve,  and  no  time  to  lose.  God  bless  you, 
my  boy — we’ll  meet  soon.” 

“ Here’s  the  carriage,  sir,  this  way.” 

“ Well,  my  lads,  you  know  the  road,  I suppose  ? ” 

“Every  inch  of  it,  your  honor’s  glory  ; we’re  always  com- 
ing it  for  doctors  and  ’pothecaries  ; they’re  never  a week 
without  them.” 

I was  soon  seated,  the  door  clapped  to,  and  the  words  “ all 
right  ” given,  and  away  we  went. 

Little  as  I had  slept  during  the  night,  my  mind  was  too 
much  occupied  with  the  adventure  I was  engaged  in  to 
permit  any  thoughts  of  sleep  now,  so  that  I had  abundant 
opportunity  afforded  me  of  pondering  over  all  the  bearings 
of  the  case,  with  much  more  of  deliberation  and  caution 
than  I had  yet  bestowed  upon  it.  One  thing  was  certain, 
whether  success  did  or  did  not  attend  our  undertaking,  the 
risk  was  mine  and  mine  only ; and  if  by  any  accident  the 
affair  should  be  already  known  to  the  family,  I stood  a very 
fair  chance  of  being  shot  by  one  of  the  sons,  or  stoned  to 
death  by  the  tenantry;  while  my  excellent  friend  Curzon 


HARR  Y LORREQUER.  187 

should  be  eating  his  breakfast  with  his  reverend  friend,  and 
only  interrupting  himself  in  his  fourth  muffin  to  wonder 
“what  could  keep  them  ; ” and  besides,  for  minor  miseries 
will,  like  the  little  devils  in  Don  Giovanni,  thrust  up  their 
heads  among  their  better-grown  brethren,  my  fifty  pound  bet 
lcoked  rather  blue  ; for  even  under  the  most  favorable  light 
considered,  however  Curzon  might  be  esteemed  a gainer,  it 
might  be  well  doubted  how  far  I had  succeeded  better  than 
the  doctor,  when  producing  his  fee  in  evidence.  Well, 
well,  I’m  in  for  it  now;  but  certainly  it  is  strange,  all  these 
very  awkward  circumstances  never  struck  me  so  forcibly 
before;  and  after  all  it  was  not  quite  fair  of  Curzon  to  put 
any  man  forward  in  such  a transaction;  the  more  so  as  such 
a representation  might  be  made  of  it  at  the  Horse  Guards 
as  to  stop  a man’s  promotion,  or  seriously  affect  his  pros- 
pects for  life,  and  I at  last  began  to  convince  myself  that 
many  a man  so  placed  would  carry  the  lady  off  himself,  and 
leave  the  adjutant  to  settle  the  affair  with  the  family.  For 
two  mortal  hours  did  I conjure  up  every  possible  dis- 
agreeable contingency  that  might  arise.  My  being  mulcted 
of  my  fifty  and  laughed  at  by  the  mess  seemed  inevitable, 
even  were  I fortunate  enough  to  escape  a duel  with  the  fire- 
eating brother.  Meanwhile  a thick  misty  rain  continued  to 
fall,  adding  so  much  to  the  darkness  of  the  early  hour,  that 
I could  see  nothing  of  the  country  about,  me,  and  knew 
nothing  of  where  I was. 

Troubles  are  like  laudanum,  a small  dose  only  excites,  a 
strong  one  sets  you  to  sleep — not  a very  comfortable  sleep 
mayhap — but  still  it  is  sleep,  and  often  very  sound  sleep  ; 
so  it  now  happened  with  me.  I had  pondered  over,  weighed 
and  considered  all  the  pros,  cons,  turnings  and  windings  of 
this  awkward  predicament,  till  I had  fairly  convinced  my- 
self that  I was  on  the  high-road  to  a confounded  scrape  ; 
and  then  having  established  that  fact  to  my  entire  satisfac- 
tion, I fell  comfortably  back  in  the  chaise,  and  sunk  into 
a most  profound  slumber. 

If  to  any  of  my  readers  I may  appear  here  to  have  taken 
a very  despondent  view  of  this  whole  affair,  let  him  only  call 
to  mind  my  invariable  ill-luck  in  such  matters,  and  always 
how  it  had  been  my  lot  to  see  myself  on  the  fair  road  to 
success,  only  up  to  that  point  at  which  it  is  certain,  besides 
— but  why  explain  ? These  are  my  Confessions.  I may 
not  alter  what  are  matters  of  fact,  and  my  reader  must  only 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


m 

take  me  with  all  the  imperfections  of  wrong  motives  and 
headlong  impulses  upon  my  head,  or  abandon  me  at  once. 

Meanwhile  the  chaise  rolled  along,  and  the  road  being 
better  and  the  pace  faster,  my  sleep  became  more  easy ; 
thus,  about  an  hour  and  a half,  after  I had  fallen  asleep, 
passed  rapidly  over,  when  the  sharp  turning  of  an  angle 
disturbed  me  from  my  leaning  position  and  I awoke.  I 
started  up  and  rubbed  my  eyes  ; several  seconds  elapsed  be- 
fore I could  think  where  I was  or  whither  going.  Conscious- 
ness at  last  came,  and  I perceived  that  we  were  driving  up  a 
thickly  planted  avenue.  Why,  confound  it,  they  can’t  have 
mistaken  it,  thought  I,  or  are  we  really  going  up  to  the  house, 
instead  of  waiting  at  the  lodge  ? I at  once  lowered  the 
sash,  and  stretching  out  my  head,  cried  out,  “ Do  you  know 
what  ye  are  about,  lads  ; is  this  all  right  ? ” but,  unfortunately, 
amid  the  rattling  of  the  gravel  and  the  clatter  of  the  horses, 
my  words  were  unheard  ; and  thinking  I was  addressing  a 
request  to  go  faster,  the  villains  cracked  their  whips,  and 
breaking  into  a full  gallop,  before  five  minutes  flew  over, 
they  drew  up  with  a jerk  at  the  foot  of  a long  portico  to  a 
large  and  spacious  cut-stone  mansion.  When  I rallied  from 
the  sudden  check,  which  had  nearly  thrown  me  through  the 
window,  I gave  myself  up  for  lost ; here  I was  at  a vis-a-vis  to 
the  very  hall  door  of  the  man  whos$  daughter  I was  about 
to  elope  with,  whether  so  placed  by  the  awkwardness  and 
blundering  of  the  wretches  who  drove  me,  or  delivered  up 
by  their  treachery,  it  mattered  not,  my  fate  seemed  certain ; 
before  I had  time  to  determine  upon  any  line  of  acting  in 
this  confounded  dilemma,  the  door  was  jerked  open  by  a 
servant  in  a sombre  livery,  who,  protruding  his  head  and 
shoulders  into  the  chaise,  looked  at  me  steadily  for  a 
moment,  and  said,  “ Ah  ! then,  doctor  darlin’,  but  ye’re 
welcome.”  With  the  speed  with  which  sometimes  the  bar 
of  an  air  long  since  heard,  or  the  passing  glance  of  an  old 
familiar  face  can  call  up  the  memory  of  our  very-  earliest 
childhood,  bright  and  vivid  before  us,  so  that  one  single 
phrase  explained  the  entire  mystery  of  my  present  position, 
and  Psaw  in  one  rapid  glance  that  I had  got  into  the  chaise 
intended  for  Dr.  Fitzgerald,  and  was  absolutely  at  that 
moment  before  the  hall  door  of  the  patient.  My  first 
impulse  was  an  honest  one,  to  avow  the  mistake  and  retrace 
my  steps,  taking  my  chance  to  settle  with  Curzon,  whose 
matrimonial  scheme  I foresaw  was  doomed  to  the  untimely 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


189 

fate  of  ail  those  I had  ever  been  concerned  in.  My  next 
thought,  how  seldom  is  the  adage  true  which  says  “ that 
second  thoughts  are  best,”  was  upon  my  luckless  wager,  for, 
even  supposing  that  Fitzgerald  should  follow  me  in  the 
other  chaise,  yet  as  I had  the  start  of  him,  if  I could  only 
pass  muster  for  half  an  hour,  I might  secure  the  fee  and 
evacuate  the  territory  ; besides  that  there  was  a great 
chance  of  Fitz’s  having  gone  on  my  errand,  while  I was 
journeying  on  his , in  which  case  I should  F>e  safe  from  in- 
terruption. Meanwhile,  heaven  only  could  tell  what  his  in- 
terference in  poor  Curzon’s  business  might  not  involve. 
These  serious  reflections  took  about  ten  seconds  to  pass 
through  my  mind  as  the  grave-looking  old  servant  proceeded 
to  encumber  himself  with  my  cloak  and  my  pistol-case, 
remarking,  as  he  lifted  the  latter,  “ And  may  the  Lord  grant 
you  won’t  want  the  instruments  this  time,  doctor,  for  they 
say  he  is.  better  this  morning.”  Heartily  wishing  amen  to 
the  benevolent  prayer  of  the  honest  domestic,  for  more 
reasons  than  one,  I descended  leisurely,  as  I conjectured  a 
doctor  ought  to  do,  from  the  chaise,  and  with  a solemn  pace 
and  grave  demeanor  followed  him  into  the  house. 

In  the  small  parlor  to  which  I was  ushered  sat  two  gentle- 
men somewhat  advanced  in  years,  who  I rightly  supposed 
were  my  medical  confreres.  One  of  these  was  a tall,  pale, 
ascetic-looking  man,  with  gray  hair  and  retreating  forehead, 
slow  in  speech  and  lugubrious  in  demeanor.  The  other, 
his  antithesis,  was  a short,  rosy-cheeked,  apoplectic-looking 
subject ; with  a laugh  like  a suffocating  wheeze,  and  a paunch 
like  an  alderman  ; his  quick,  restless  eye  and  full  nether  lip 
denoting  more  of  the  bon  vivant  than  the  abstemious  disciple 
of  Esculapius.  A moment’s  glance  satisfied  me  that  if  I had 
only  these  to  deal  with,  I was  safe,  for  I saw  that  they  were 
of  that  stamp  of  country  practitioner,  half-physician,  half- 
apothecary,  who  rarely  come  in  contact  with  the  higher 
orders  of  their  art,  and  then  only  to  be  dictated  to,  obey,  and 
grumble. 

“ Doctor,  may  I beg  to  intrude  myself,  Mr.  Phipps,  on  your 
notice.  ? Dr.  Phipps  or  Mr.,  it’s  all  one ; but  I have  only  a 
licence  in  pharmacy,  though  they  call  me  doctor.” 

“Surgeon  Riley,  sir;  a very  respectable  practitioner,”  said 
he,  waving  his  hand  toward  his  rubicund  confrere. 

I at  once  expressed  the  great  happiness  it  afforded  me  to 
meet  such  highly  informed  and  justly  celebrated  gentlemen ; 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


190 

and  fearing  every  moment  the  arrival  of  the  real  Simon  Pure 
should  cover  me  with  shame  and  disgrace,  begged  they  would 
afford  me,  as  soon  as  possible*  some  history  of  the  case  we 
were  concerned  for.  They  accordingly  proceeded  to  ex- 
pound, in  a species  of  duet,  some  curious  particulars  of  an 
old  gentleman,  who  had  the  evil  fortune  to  have  them  for 
his  doctors,  and  who  labored  under  some  swelling  of  the 
neck,  which  they  differed  as  to  the  treatment  of,  and  in  con- 
sequence of  which  the  aid  of  a third  party  (myself,  God 
bless  the  mark  !)  was  requested. 

As  I could  by  no  means  divest  myself  of  the  fear  of  Fitz’s 
Arrival,  I pleaded  the  multiplicity  of  my  professional  engage- 
ments as  a reason  for  at  once  seeing  the  patient ; upon  which 
I was  conducted  upstairs  by  my  two  brethren,  and  intro- 
duced into  a half-lighted  chamber.  In  a large  easy-chair 
sat  a florid-looking  old  man,  with  a face  in  which  pain  and 
habitual  ill-temper  had  combined  to  absorb  every  expression. 

“ This  is  the  doctor  of  the  regiment,  sir,  that  you  desired 
to  see,”  said  my  tall  coadjutor. 

“ Oh  I then,  very  well ; good-morning,  sir.  I suppose  you 
will  find  out  something  new  the  matter,  for  them  two  there 
have  been  doing  so  every  day  this  two  months.” 

“ I trust,  sir,”  I replied,  stiffly,  “ that  with  the  assistance 
of  my  learned  friends,  much  may  be  done  for  you.  Ha! 
Hem  ! so  this  is  the  malady.  Turn  your  head  a little  to  that 
side,”  here  an  aryful  groan  escaped  the  sick  man,  for  I,  it 
appears,  had  made  considerable  impression  upon  rather  a 
delicate  part,  not  unintentionally  I must  confess ; for  as  I re- 
membered Hoyle’s  maxim  at  whist,  “ When  in  doubt  play  a 
trump,”  so  I thought  it  might  be  true  in  physic,  when  posed 
by  a difficulty  to  do  a bold  thing  also.  “ Does  that  hurt  you, 
sir  ?”  said  I,  in  a soothing  and  affectionate  tone  of  voice. 
“ Tike  the  devil,”  growled  the  patient.  “ And  here  ? ” said 
I.  “Oh!  oh!  I can’t  bear  it  any  longer.”  “Oh!  I per- 
ceive,” said  I,  “the  thing  is  just  as  I expected.”  Here  I 
raised  my  eyebrows,  and  looked  indescribably  wise  at  my 
confreres. 

“ No  aneurism,  doctor,”  said  the  tall  one. 

“ Certainly  not.” 

“ Maybe,”  said  the  short  man,  “ maybe  it’s  a stay-at-home- 
with-us  tumor  after  all ; ” so  at  least  he  appeared  to  pro- 
nounce a confounded  technical,  which  I afterward  learned 
was  “ steatomatous,”  Conceiving  that  my  rosy  friend  was 


HARRY  LORREQUER,  191 

disposed  to  jeer  at  me,  I gave  him  a terrific  frown,  and  re- 
sumed : “ This  must  not  be  touched.” 

“ So  you  won’t  operate  upon  it,”  said  the  patient. 

“ I would  not  take  a thousand  pounds  and  do  so,”  I re- 
plied. “ Now,  if  you  please,  gentlemen,”  said  I,  making  a 
step  toward  the  door,  as  if  to  withdraw  for  consultation,  upon 
which  they  accompanied  me  downstairs  to  the  breakfast- 
room.  As  it  was  the  only  time  in  my  life  I had  performed 
in  this  character,  I had  some  doubts  as  to  the  propriety  of  in- 
dulging a very  hearty  breakfast  appetite,  not  knowing  if  it 
were  unprofessional  to  eat ; but  from  this  doubt  my  learned 
friends  speedily  relieved  me,  by  the  entire  devotion  which 
they  bestowed  for  about  twenty  minutes  upon  ham,  rolls, 
eggs,  and  cutlets,  barely  interrupting  these  important  oc- 
cupations by  sly  allusions  to  the  old  gentleman’s  malady 
and  his  chance  of  recovery. 

“ Well,  doctor,”  said  the  pale  one,  as  at  length  he  rested 
from  his  labors,  “ what  are  we  to  do  ? ” 

“ Ay,”  said  the  other,  “ there’s  the  question.” 

“Go  on,”1  said  I,  “go,  on  as  before,  I can’t  advise  you 
better.”  Now,  this  was  a deep  stroke  of  mine;  for  up  to 
the  present  moment  I did  not  know  what  treatment  they 
were  practicing ; but  it  looked  a shrewd  thing  to  guess  it, 
and  it  certainly  was  civil  to  approve  of  it. 

“ So  you  think  that  will  be  best  ? ” 

“ I’m  certain — I know  nothing  better,”  I answered. 

“ Well,  I’m  sure,  sir,  we  have  every  reason  to  be  gratified 
for  the  very  candid  manner  in  which  you  have  treated  us. 
Sir,  I’m  your  most  obedient  servant,”  said  the  fat  one. 

“Gentlemen,  both  your  good  healths  and  professional  suc- 
cess also  ; ” here  I swallowed  a petit  verve  ol  brandy  ; thinking 
all  the  while  there  were  worse  things  than  the  practice  of 
physic. 

“ I hope  you  are  not  going,”  said  one,  as  my  chaise  drew 

up  at  the  door. 

“ Business  calls  me,”  said  I,  “ and  I can’t  help  it.” 

“ Could  not  you  manage  to  see  our  friend  here  again,  in  a 
day  or  two  ? ” said  the  rosy  one. 

“I  fear  it  will  be  impossible,”  replied  I ; “besides  I have 
a notion  he  may  not  desire  it.” 

“I  have  been  commissioried  to  hand  you  this,”  said  the 
tall  doctor,  with  a half  sigh,  as  he  put  a check  into  my 
hand. 


Barry  lorrequer. 


igj 

I bowed  slightly,  and  stuffed  the  crumpled  paper  with  a 
half-careless  air  into  my  waistcoat  pocket,  and  wishing  them 
both  every  species  of  happiness  and  success,  shook  hands 
four  times  with  each  and  drove  off  ; never  believing  myself 
safe  till  I saw  the  gate-lodge  behind  me,  and  felt  myself 
flying  on  the  road  to  Kilkenny  at  about  twelve  miles  Irish 
an  hour. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  ELOPEMENT. 

It  was  past  two  o’clock  when  I reached  the  town.  On 
entering  the  barrack-yard,  I perceived  a large  group  of 
officers  chatting  together,  and  every  moment  breaking  into 
immoderate  fits  of  laughter.  I went  over,  and  immediately 
learned  the  source  of  their  mirth,  which  was  this  : No  sooner 
had  it  been  known  that  Fitzgerald  was  about  to  go  to  a dis- 
tance, on  a professional  call,  than  a couple  of  young  officers 
laid  their  heads  together,  and  wrote  an  anonymous  note  to 
Mrs.  Fitz,  who  was  the  very  dragon  of  jealousy,  informing 
her  that  her  husband  had  feigned  the  whole  history  of  the 
patient  and  consultation  as  an  excuse  for  absenting  himself 
on  an  excursion  of  gallantry  ; and  that  if  she  wished  to  satisfy 
herself  of  the  truth  of  the  statement  she  had  only  to  follow 
him  in  the  morning,  and  detect  his  entire  scheme ; the  object 
of  these  amiable  friends  being  to  give  poor  Mrs.  Fitz  a twenty 
miles’  jaunt,  and  confront  her  with  her  injured  husband  at  the 
end  of  it. 

Having  a mind  actively  alive  to  suspicions  of  this  nature, 
the  worthy  woman  made  all  her  arrangements  for  a start,  and 
scarcely  was  the  chaise  and  four,  with  her  husband,  out  of 
the  town,  than  she  was  on  the  track  of  it,  with  a heart  burst- 
ing with  jealousy,  and  vowing  vengeance  to  the  knife  against 
all  concerned  in  this  scheme  to  wrong  her. 

So  far  the  plan  of  her  persecutors  had  perfectly  succeeded  ; 
they  saw  her  depart  on  a trip  of,  as  they  supposed,  twenty 
miles,  and  their  whole  notions  of  the  practical  joke  were 
limited  to  the  eclaircissement  that  must  ensue  at  the  end. 
Little,  however,  were  they  aware  how  much  more  nearly  the 
suspected  crime  was  the  position  of  the  poor  doctor  to  turn 
out ; for,  as  by  one  blunder  I had  taken  his  chaise,  so  he* 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


m 


without  any  inquiry  whatever,  had  got  into  the  one  intended 
for  me,  and  never  awoke  from  a most  refreshing  slumber  till 
shaken  by  the  shoulder  by  the  postilion,  who  whispered  in  his 
ear,  “ Here  we  are,  sir  : this  is  the  gate.” 

44  But  why  stop  at  the  gate  ? Drive  up  the  avenue,  my 
boy.” 

“ His  honor  told  me,  sir,  not  for  the  world  to  go  further 
than  the  lodge : nor  to  make  as  much  noise  as  a mouse.” 

“ Ah ! very  true.  He  may  be  very  irritable,  poor  man  ! 
Well,  stop  here,  and  I’ll  get  out.” 

Just  as  the  doctor  had  reached  the  ground,  a very  smart- 
looking soubrette  tripped  up  and  said  to  him  : 

“ Beg  pardon,  sir  ; but  you  are  the  gentleman  from  the  bar- 
rack, sir  ? ” 

“ Yes,  my  dear,”  said  Fitz,  with  a knowing  look  at  the 
pretty  face  of  the  damsel,  “ what  can  I do  for  you  ? ” 

“ Why,  sir,  my  mistress  is  here  in  the  shrubbery  ; but  she 
is  so  nervous,  and  so  frightened,  I don’t  know  how  she’ll  go 
through  it.” 

“ Ah  ! she’s  frightened,  poor  thing  ; is  she  ? Oh  ! she  must 
keep  up  her  spirits ; while  there’s  life  there’s  hope.” 

“ Sir.” 

“ I say,  my  darling,  she  must  not  give  way.  I’ll  speak  to 
her  a little.  Is  not  he  rather  advanced  in  life  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! Lord  ! no,  sir.  Only  two-and-thirty,  my  mistress 
tells  me.” 

44  Two-and-thirty  ! Why,  I thought  he  was  above  sixty.” 

“ Above  sixty!  Law  ! sir.  You  have  a bright  fancy.  This 
is  the  gentleman,  ma’am.  Now,  sir,  I’ll  just  slip  aside  for  a 
moment,  and  let  you  talk  to  her.” 

44  I am  grieved,  ma’am,  that  I have  not  the  happiness  to 
make  your  acquaintance  under  happier  circumstances.” 

44  I must  confess,  sir — though  I am  ashamed— — ” 

44  Never  be  ashamed,  ma’am.  Your  grief,  although  I trust 
causeless,  does  you  infinite  honor.  Upon  my  soul,  she  is 
rather  pretty,”  said  the  doctor  to  himself,  here. 

“ Well,  sir,  as  I have  the  most  perfect  confidence  in  you, 
from  all  I have  heard  of  you,  I trust  you  will  not  think  me 
abrupt  in  saying  that  any  longer  delay  here  is  dangerous.” 

44  Dangerous  ! Is  he  in  so  critical  a state  as  that  then  ? ” 

44  Critical  a state,  sir  ! Why,  what  do  you  mean  ? ” 

44  I mean,  ma’am,  do  you  think,  then,  it  must  be  done  to 
day  ? ” 


194 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


“ Of  course  I do,  sir,  and  I shall  never  leave  the  spot  with* 
out  your  assuring  me  of  it.” 

“ Oh  ! in  that  case  make  your  mind  easy.  I have  the  in- 
struments in  the  chaise.” 

“ The  instruments  in  the  chaise  ! Really,  sir,  if  you  are 
not  jesting — I trust  you  don’t  think  this  a fitting  time  for 
such — I entreat  of  you  to  speak  more  plainly  and  intel- 
ligibly.” 

“ Jesting,  ma’am  ! I’m  incapable  of  jesting  at  such  a 
moment.” 

“ Ma’am  ! ma’am  ! I see  one  of  the  rangers,  ma’am,  at  a 
distance  ; so  don’t  lose  a moment,  but  get  into  the  chaise  at 
once.” 

“ Well,  sir,  let  us  away  ; for  I have  now  gone  too  far  to 
retract.” 

“ Help  my  mistress  into  the  chaise,  sir.  Lord  1 what  a 
man  he  is.”  , 

A moment  more  saw  the  poor  doctor  seated  beside  the 
young  lady,  while  the  postilions  plied  whip  and  spur  with 
their  best  energy  ; and  the  road  flew  beneath  them.  Mean- 
while the  delay  caused  by  this  short  dialogue  enabled  Mrs. 
Fitz’s  slower  conveyance  to  come  up  with  the  pursuit,  and 
her  chaise  had  just  turned  the  angle  of  the  road  as  she  caught 
a glimpse  of  a muslin  dress  stepping  into  the  carriage  with 
her  husband. 

There  are  no  words  capable  of  conveying  the  faintest  idea 
of  the  feelings  that  agitated  Mrs.  Fitz  at  this  moment.  The 
fullest  confirmation  to  her  worst  fears  was  before  her  eyes — - 
just  at  the  very  instant  Mien  a doubt  was  beginning  to  cross 
over  her  mind  that  it  might  have  been  merely  a hoax  that 
was  practised  on  her,  and  that  the  worthy  doctor  ivas  inno- 
cent and  blameless.  As  for  the  poor  doctor  himself,  there 
seemed  little  chance  of  his  being  enlightened  as  to  the  real 
state  of  matters  ; for  from  the  moment  the  young  lady  had 
taken  her  place  in  the  chaise,  she  had  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands,  and  sobbed  continually.  Meanwhile  he  concluded 
that  they  were  approaching  the  house  by  some  back  entrance 
to  avoid  noise  and  confusion,  and  waited  with  due  patience 
for  the  journey’s  end. 

As,  however,  her  grief  continued  unabated*  Fitz  at  length 
began  to  think  of  the  many  little  consolatory  acts  he  had 
successfully  practised  in  his  professional  career,  and  was 
just  insinuating  some  very  tender  speech  on  the  score  of 


I 

HARR  Y LORREQUER.  195 

resignation,  his  head  inclined  toward  the  weeping  lady  be- 
side him,  when  the  chaise  of  Mrs.  Fitz  came  up  alongside, 
and  the  postilions  having  yielded  to  the  call  to  halt,  drew 
suddenly  up,  displaying  to  the  enraged  wife  the  tableau  we 
have  mentioned. 

“So,  wretch/’  she  screamed  rather  than  spoke,  “ I have 
detected  you  at  last.” 

“ Lord  bless  me  ! Why,  it  is  my  wife.” 

“Yes,  villain!  your  injured,  much- wronged  wife!  And 
you,  madam,  may  I ask  what  you  have  to  say  for  thus  elop- 
ing with  a married  man  ? ” 

“Shame!  My  dear  Jemima,”  said  Fitz,  “how  can  you 
possibly  permit  your  foolish  jealousy  so  far  to  blind  your 
reason  ? Don’t  you  see  I am  going  upon  a professional 
call  ? ” 

“ Oh ! you  are,  are  you  ? Quite  professional,  I’ll  be 
bound  ! ” 

“Oh,  sir!  oh,  madam!  I beseech  you,  save  me  from  the 
anger  of  my  relatives,  and  the  disgrace  of  exposure.  Pray, 
bring  me  back  at  once.” 

“ Why,  my  God,  ma’am,  what  do  you  mean  ? You  are  not 
gone  mad,  as  well  as  my  wife.” 

“ Really,  Mr.  Fitz,”  says  Mrs.  F.,  “ this  is  carrying  the 
joke  too  far.  Take  your  unfortunate  victim — as  I suppose 
she  is  such — home  to  her  parents,  and  prepare  to  acconv 
pany  me  to  the  barrack ; and  if  there  be  law  and  justice 
in ” 

“ Well ! may  the  Lord  in  His  mercy  preserve  my  senses,  or 
you  will  both  drive  me  clean  mad.” 

“ Oh,  dear ! Oh,  dear,”  sobbed  the  young  lady,  while 
Mrs.  Fitzgerald  continued  to  upbraid  at  the  top  of  her 
voice,  heedless  of  the  disclaimers  and  protestations  of  inno- 
cence poured  out  with  the  eloquence  of  despair  by  the  poor 
doctor.  Matters  were  in  this  state,  when  a man,  dressed  in 
a fustian  jacket,  like  a groom,  drove  up  to  the  side  of  the 
road  in  a tax  cart  ; he  immediately  got  down,  and  tearing 
open  the  door  of  the  doctor’s  chaise,  lifted  out  the  young 
lady,  and  deposited  her  safely  in  his  own  conveyance,  merely 
adding, 

“ I say,  master,  you’re  in  luck  this  morning,  that  Mr. 
William  took  the  lower  road  ; for  if  he  had  come  up  with 
you,  instead  of  me,  he’d  blow  the  roof  off  your  skull,  thal% 

all” 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


196 

While  these  highly  satisfactory  words  were  being  addressed 
to  poor  Fitz,  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  had  removed  from  her  car- 
riage to  that  of  her  husband,  perhaps  preferring  four  horses 
to  two  ; or  perhaps  she  had  still  some  unexplained  views  of 
the  transaction,  which  might  as  well  be  told  on  the  road 
homeward. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  nature  of  Mrs.  F.’s  disser- 
tation, nothing  is  known.  The  chaise  containing  these 
turtle  doves  arrived  late  at  night  at  Kilkenny,  and  Fitz  was 
installed  safely  in  his  quarters  before  any  one  knew  of  his 
having  come  back.  The  following  morning  he  was  reported 
ill ; and  for  three  weeks  he  was  but  once  seen,  and  that  time 
only  at  his  window,  with  a flannel  night-cap  on  his  head, 
looking  particularly  pale,  and  rather  dark  under  one  eye. 

As  for  Curzon — the  last  thing  known  of  him  that  luckless 
morning  was  his  hiring  a post-chaise  for  the  Royal  Oak,  from 
whence  he  posted  to  Dublin,  and  hastened  on  to  England. 
In  a few  days  we  learned  that  the  adjutant  had  exchanged 
into  a regiment  in  Canada  ; and  to  this  hour  there  are  not 
three  men  in  the  — th  who  know  the  real  secret  of  that  morn- 
ing’s misadventures. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DETACHMENT  DUTY AN  ASSIZE  TOWN. 

As  there  appeared  to  be  but  little  prospect  of  poor  Fitzgerald 
ever  requiring  any  explanation  from  me  as  to  the  events  of 
that  morning,  for  he  feared  to  venture  from  his  room,  lest 
he  might  be  recognized  and  prosecuted  for  abduction,  I 
thougtffit  better  to  keep  my  own  secret  also  ; and  it  was 
therefore  with  a feeling  of  anything  but  regret  that  I received 
an  order  which,  under  other  circumstances,  would  have  ren- 
dered me  miserable — to  march  on  detachment  duty.  To  any 
one  at  all  conversant  with  the  life  we  lead  in  the  army,  I 
need  not  say  how  unpleasant  such  a change  usually  is.  To 
surrender  your  capital  mess,  with  all  its  well  appointed 
equipments — your  jovial  brother  officers — your  West  India 
Madeira — your  cool  Lafitte — your  daily,  hourly,  and  half- 
hourly  flirtations  with  the  whole  female,  population — never 
* deficient  one  in  a garrison  town — not  to  speak  of  yon* 


MARRY  LORREQUER. 


1 97 


matches  at  trotting,  coursing,  and  pigeon  shooting,  and  a 
hundred  other  delectable  modes  of  getting  over  the  ground 
through  life,  till  it  please  your  ungrateful  country  and  the 
Horse  Guards  to  make  you  a major-general — to  surrender 
all  these,  I say,  for  the  noise,  dust,  and  damp  disagreeables 
of  a country  inn,  with  bacon  to  eat,  whisky  to  drink,  and  the 
priest,  or  the  constabulary  chief,  to  get  drunk  with — I speak 
of  Ireland  here — and  your  only  affair  par  amours  being  the 
occasional  ogling  of  the  apothecary’s  daughter  opposite,  as 
often  as  she  visits  the  shop,  in  the  soidisant  occupation  of 
measuring  out  garden  seeds  and  senna.  These  are,  indeed, 
the  exchanges  with  a difference,  for  which  there  is  no  com- 
pensation ; and,  for  my  own  part,  I never  went  upon  such 
duty,  that  I did  not  exclaim  with  the  honest  Irishman,  when 
the  mail  went  over  him,  “ Oh,  Lord  ! what  is  this  for  ? ” 
— firmly  believing  that  in  the  earthly  purgatory  of  such 
duties  I was  reaping  the' heavy  retribution  attendant  on  past 
offenses. 

Besides,  from  being  rather  a crack  man  in  my  corps,  I 
thought  it  somewhat  hard  that  my  turn  ifor  such  duty  should 
come  round  about  twice  as  often  as  that  of  my  brother 
officers  ; but  so  it  is — I never  knew  a fellow  a little  smarter 
than  his  neighbors  that  was  not  pounced  upon  by  his  colonel 
for  a victim.  Now,  however,  I looked  at  these  matters  in  a 
very  different  light.  To  leave  head-quarters  was  to  escape 
being  questioned  ; while  there  was  scarcely  any  post  to  which 
I could  be  sent  where  something  strange  or  adventurous  might 
ft ot  turn  up,  and  serve  me  to  erase  the  memory  of  the  past, 
and  turn  the  attention  of  my  companions  in  any  quarter 
rather  than  toward  myself. 

My  orders  on  the  present  occasion  were  to  march  to  Clon- 
mel, from  whence  I was  to  proceed  a short  distance  to  the 
house  of  a magistrate,  upon  whose  information,  transmitted 
to  the  Chief  Secretary,  the  present  assistance  of  a military 
party  had  been  obtained ; and  not  without  every  appearance 
of  reason.  The  assizes  of  the  town  were  about  to  be  held, 
and  many  capital  offences  stood  for  trial  in  the  calendar ; and 
as  it  was  strongly  rumored  that,  in  the  event  of  certain  con- 
victions being  obtained,  a rescue  would  be  attempted,  a 
general  attack  upon  the  town  seemed  a too  natural  con- 
sequence ; and  if  so,  the  house  of  so  obnoxious  a person  as 
him  I have  alluded  to  would  be  equally  certain  of  being 
assailed.  Such,  at  least,  is  too  frequently  the  history  of  such 


tgg  HARRY  LORREQUER. 

scenes  ; beginning  with  no  one  definite  object — sometimes  a 
slight  one — more  ample  views  and  wider  conceptions  of  mis* 
chief  follow ; and  what  has  begun  in  a drunken  riot — a 
casual  rencontre — may  terminate  in  the  slaughter  of  a family 
or  the  burning  of  a village.  The  finest  peasantry — God  bless 
them! — are  a zv/*  people,  and  quicker  at  taking  a hint  than 
most  others,  and  have,  withal,  a natural  taste  for  fighting,  that 
no  acquired  habits  of  other  nations  can  pretend  to  vie  with. 

As  the  worthy  person  to  whose  house  I was  now  about  to 
proceed  was,  and  if  I am  rightly  informed  is,  rather  a re- 
markable character  in  the  local  history  of  Irish  politics,  I 
may  as  well  say  a few  words  concerning  him.  Mr.  Joseph 
Larkins,  Esq., — (for  so  he  signed  himself) — had  only  been 
lately  elevated  to  the  bench  of  magistrates.  He  was  origin- 
ally one  of  that  large  but  intelligent  class  called  in  Ireland 
“ small  farmers,”  remarkable  chiefly  for  a considerable  tact 
in  driving  hard  bargains — a great  skill  in  wethers — a rather 
national  dislike  to  pay  all  species  of  imposts,  whether  par- 
taking of  the  nature  of  tax,  title,  grand  jury  cess,  or  anything 
of  that  nature  whatsoever.  So  very  accountable — I had 
almost  said  (for  I have  been  long  quartered  in  Ireland),  so  . 
very  laudable,  a propensity,  excited  but  little  of  surprise  or 
astonishment  in  his  neighbors,  the  majority  of  whom  enter- 
tain very  similar  views — none,  however,  possessing  anything 
like  the  able  and  lawyer-like  ability  of  the  worthy  Larkins, 
for  the  successful  evasion  of  these  inroads  upon  the  liberty 
of  the  subject.  Such,  in  fact,  was  his  talent,  and  so  great 
his  success  in  this  respect,  that  he  had  established  what,  if 
it  did  not  exactly  amount  to  a statute  of  exemption  in  law, 
served  equally  well  in  reality ; and  for  several  years  he  en- 
joyed a perfect  immunity  on  the  subject  of  money-paying  in 
general.  His  “ little  houldin’,”  as  he  unostentatiously  called 
some  five  hundred  acres  of  bog,  mountain,  and  sheep-walk, 
lay  in  a remote  part  of  the  county,  the  roads  were  nearly  im- 
passable for  several  miles  in  that  direction,  and  was  of  little 
value;  the  agent  was  a timid  man  with  a large  family;  of 
three  tithe  proctors  who  had  penetrated  into  the  forbidden 
territory,  two  labored  under  a dyspepsia  for  life,  not  being 
able  to  digest  parchment  and  sealing-wax,  for  they  usually 
dined  on  their  own  writs,  and  the  third  gave  five  pounds  out 
of  his  pocket  to  a large,  fresh-looking  man,  with  brown 
whiskers  and  beard,  that  concealed  him  two  nights  in  a hay- 
loft to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  people,  which  act  of  phil- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


1 99 


anthropy  should  never  be  forgotten,  if  some  ill-natured 
people  were  not  bold  enough  to  say  that  the  kind  individual 
in  question  was  no  other  man  than 

However  this  may  be,  true  it  is  that  this  was  the  last  at- 
tempt made  to  bring  within  the  responsibilities  of  the  law  so 
refractory  a subject ; and  so  powerful  is  habit,  that,  although 
he  was  to  be  met  with  at  every  market  and  cattle-fair  in  the 
county,  an  arrest  of  his  person  was  no  more  contemplated 
than  if  he  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  Parliament  to  go  at  large 
without  danger. 

When  the  country  became  disturbed,  and  nightly  meetings 
of  the  peasantry  were  constantly  held,  followed  by  outrages 
against  life  and  property  to  the  most  frightful  extent,  the 
usual  resources  of  the  law  were  employed  unavailingly.  It 
was  in  vain  to  offer  high  rewards.  Approvers  could  not  be 
found ; and  so  perfectly  organized  were  the  secret  associa- 
tions, that  few  beyond  the  very  ringleaders  knew  anything  of 
consequence  to  communicate.  Special  commissioners  were 
sent  down  from  Dublin;  additional  police  force,  detach- 
ments of  military ; long  correspondence  took  place  between 
the  magistracy  and  the  government — but  all  in  vain.  The 
disturbances  continued  ; and  at  last  to  such  a height  had  they 
arisen,  that  the  country  was  put  under  martial  law ; and 
even  this  was  ultimately  found  perfectly  insufficient  to 
repel  what  now  daily  threatened  to  become  an  open  rebellion 
rather  than  mere  agrarian  disturbance.  It  was  at  this  pre- 
cise moment,  when  all  resources  seemed  to  be  fast  exhausting 
themselves,  that  certain  information  reached  the  Castle,  of 
the  most  important  nature.  The  individual  who  obtained 
and  transmitted  it  had  perilled  his  life  in  so  doing — but  the 
result  was  a great  one — no  less  than  the  capital  conviction 
and  execution  of  seven  of  the  most  influential  among  the 
disaffected  peasantry.  Confidence  was  at  once  shaken  in  the 
secrecy  of  their  associates  ; distrust  and  suspicion  followed. 
Many  of  the  boldest  sunk  beneath  the  fear  of  betrayal,  and 
themselves  became  evidence  for  the  crown  ; and  in  five 
months,  a county  shaken  with  midnight  meetings,  and  blazing 
with  insurrectionary  fires,  became  almost  the  most  tranquil 
in  its  province.  It  may  well  be  believed  that  he  who  ren- 
dered this  important  service  on  this  trying  emergency  could 
not  be  passed  over,  and  the  name  of  J.  Larkins  soon  after 
appeared  in  the  Gazette  as  one  of  his  majesty’s  justices  of 
the  peace  for  the  county ; pretty  much  in  the  same  spirit  in 


HARRY  LORRE QUER. 


£00 

which  a country  gentleman  converts  the  greatest  poacher  in 
his  neighborhood  by  making  him  his  gamekeeper. 

In  person  he  was  a large  and  powerfully  built  man,  con- 
siderably above  six  feet  in  height,  and  possessing  great 
activity,  combined  with  powers  of  enduring  fatigue  almost 
incredible.  With  an  eye  like  a hawk,  and  a heart  that  never 
knew  fear,  he  was  the  person,  of  all  others,  calculated  to 
strike  terror  into  the  minds  of  the  country  people.  The 
reckless  daring  with  which  he  threw  himself  into  danger — 
the  almost  impetuous  quickness  with  which  he  followed  up 
a scent,  whenever  information  reached  him  of  an  important 
character — had  their  full  effect  upon  a people  who,  long  ac- 
customed to  the  slowness  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  law,  were 
almost  paralyzed  at  beholding  the  detection  and  punishment 
follow  on  crime,  as  certainly  as  the  thunder-crash  follows  the 
lightning. 

His  great  instrument  for  this  purpose  was  the  obtaining 
information  from  sworn  members  of  the  secret  societies,  and 
whose  names  never  appeared  in  the  course  of  a trial  or  pros- 
ecution, until  the  measure  of  their  iniquity  was  completed, 
when  they  usually  received  a couple  of  hundred  pounds  blood- 
money,  as  it  was  called,  with  which  they  took  themselves 
away  to  America  or  Australia — their  lives  being  only  secured 
while  they  remained  by  the  shelter  afforded  them  in  the 
magistrate’s  own  house.  And  so  it  happened  that  constantly 
there  numbered  from  ten  to  twelve  of  these  wretches,  inmates 
of  his  family,  each  of  whom  had  the  burden  of  participation 
in  one  murder  at  least,  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  leave 
the  country,  unnoticed  and  unwatched. 

Such  a frightful  and  unnatural  state  of  things  can  hardly 
be  conceived ; and  yet,  shocking  as  it  was,  it  was  a relief  to 
that  which  led  to  it.  I have  dwelt,  perhaps,  too  long  upon 
this  painful  subject ; but  let  my  reader  now  accompany  me 
a little  further,  and  the  scene  shall  be  changed.  Does  he  see 
that  long,  low,  white  house  with  a tall,  steep  roof,  perforated 
with  innumerable  narrow  windows.  There  are  a few  strag- 
gling beech  trees,  upon  a low,  bleak-looking  field  before  the 
house,  which  is  called,  par  excellence,  the  lawn  ; a pig  or  two, 
some  geese,  and  a tethered  goat  are,  here  and  there,  musing 
over  the  state  of  Ireland,  while  some  rosy,  curly-headed, 
noisy,  and  bare-legged  urchins  are  gambolling  before  the 
door.  This  is  the  dwelling  of  the  worshipful  justice  to  which 
myself  and  my  party  were  now  approaching,  with  that  degree 


HARRY  LORREQVER. 


101 

of  activity  which  attends  on  most  marches  of  twenty  miles, 
under  the  oppressive  closeness  of  a clay  in  autumn.  Fatigued 
and  tired  as  I was,  yet  I could  not  enter  the  little  inclosure 
before  the  house  without  slopping  for  a moment  to  admire 
the  view  before  me.  A large  tract  of  rich  country,  undulat 
ing  on  every  side,  and  teeming  with  corn  fields,  in  all  the 
yellow  gold  of  ripeness  ; here  and  there,  almost  hid  by  small 
clumps  of  ash  and  alder,  were  scattered  some  cottages,  frorn 
which  the  blue  smoke  rose  in  a curling  column  into  the  calm 
evening’s  sky.  All  was  graceful,  and  beautifully  tranquil  ; 
and  you  might  have  selected  the  picture  as  emblematic  of 
that  happiness  and  repose  we  so  constantly  associate  with  our 
ideas  of  the  country  ; and  yet,  before  that  sun  had  even  set, 
which  now  gilded  the  landscape,  its  glories  would  be  replaced 
by  the  lurid  glare  of  nightly  incendiarism,  and — but  here,  fortu- 
nately for  my  reader,  and  perhaps  myself,  1 am  interrupted  in 
my  meditations  by  a rich,  mellifluous  accent  saying,  in  the 
true  Doric  of  the  South  : 

“ Mr.  Loorequer  ! you’re  welcome  to  Curryglass,  sir. 
You’ve  had  a hot  day  for  your  march.  Maybe  you’d  take  a 
taste  of  sherry  before  dinner  ? Well,  then,  we’ll  not  wait  for 
Molowny,  but  order  it  up  at  once.” 

So  saying,  I was  ushered  into  a long,  low  drawing-room, 
in  which  were  collected  together  about  a dozen  men,  to  whom 
I was  specially  and  severally  presented,  and  among  whom  I 
was  happy  to  find  my  boarding-house  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Daly,  who,  with  the  others,  had  arrived  that  same  day  for 
the  assizes,  and  who  were  all  members  of  the  legal  profession, 
either  barristers,  attorneys,  or  clerks  of  the  peace. 

The  hungry  aspect  of  the  convives,  no  less  than  the  speed 
with  which  dinner  made  its  appearance  after  my  arrival, 
showed  me  that  my  coming  was  only  waited  for  to  complete 
the  party — the  Mr.  Molowny,  before  alluded  to,  being  un- 
animously voted  present.  The  meal  itself  had  but  slight 
pretensions  to  elegance  ; there  were  neither  vol  au  ve?its , nor 
croquettes  ; neither  were  there  poulets  aux  truffes,  nor  cotel- 
lettes  a la  soubise ; but  in  their  place  stood  a lordly  fish  of 
some  five-and-twenty  pounds  weight,  a massive  sirloin,  with 
all  the  usual  armament  of  fowls,  ham,  pigeon-pie,  beefsteak, 
etc.,  lying  in  rather  a promiscuous  order  along  either  side  of 
the  table.  The  party  were  evidently  disposed  to  be  satisfied, 
and,  I acknowledge,  I did  not  prove  an  exception  to  the 
learned  individuals  about  me,  either  in  my  relish  for  good 


202 


HARRY  LORREQVER . 


things,  or  my  appetite  to  enjoy  them.  Dulce  est  desipere  in 
loco , says  some  one,  by  which  I suppose  is  meant  that  a 
rather  slang  company  is  occasionally  good  fun.  Whether 
from  my  taste  for  the  “ humanities, ” or  not,  I am  unable  to 
say,  but  certainly  in  my  then  humor  I should  not  have  ex- 
changed my  position  for  one  of  much  greater  pretensions  to 
elegance  and  tone.  There  was  first  a general  onslaught  upon 
the  viands,  crashing  of  plates,  jingling  of  knives,  mingling 
with  requests  for  “more  beef,”  “ the  hard  side  of  the  salmon,” 
or  “ another  slice  of  ham.”  Then  came  a dropping  fire  of 
drinking  wine,  which  quickly  increased,  the  decanters  of 
sherry  for  about  ten  minutes  resting  upon  the  table  about  as 
long  as  Taglioni  touches  this  mortal  earth  in  one  of  her  flying 
ballets.  Acquaintances  were  quickly  formed  between  the 
members  of  the  bar  and  myself,  and  I found  that  my  moment- 
ary popularity  was  likely  to  terminate  in  my  downfall ; for, 
as  each  introduction  was  followed  by  a bumper  of  strong 
sherry,  I did  not  expect  to  last  till  the  end  of  the  feast.  The 
cloth  at  length  disappeared,  and  I was  just  thanking  Provi- 
dence for  the  respite  from  hob-nobbing  which  I imagined 
was  to  follow,  when  a huge,  square  decanter  of  whisky  ap- 
peared, flanked  by  an  enormous  jug  of  boiling  water,  and 
renewed  preparations  for  drinking  upon  a large  scale  seriously 
commenced.  It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  I,  for  the  first 
time,  perceived  the  rather  remarkable  figure  who  had  waited 
upon  us  at  dinner,  and  who,  while  I chronicle  so  many  things 
of  little  import,  deserves  a slight  mention.  He  was  a little 
old  man  of  about  fifty-five  or  sixty  years,  wearing  upon  his 
head  a barrister’s  wig,  and  habited  in  clothes  which  originally 
had  been  the  costume  of  a very  large  and  bulky  person,  and 
which  consequently  added  much  to  the  drollery  of  his  appear- 
ance. He  had  been,  for  forty  years,  the  servant  of  Judge  Van- 
deleur,  and  had  entered  his  present  service  rather  in  the  light 
of  a preceptor  than  a menial,  invariably  dictating  to  the  worthy 
justice  upon  every  occasion  of  etiquette  or  propriety,  by  a 
reference  to  what  “ the  judge  himself  ” did,  which  always 
sufficed  to  carry  the  day  in  Nicholas’s  favor,  opposition  to  so 
correct  a standard  never  being  thought  of  by  the  justice. 

“ That’s  Billy  Crow’s  own  whisky,  the  ‘ small  still  ] ” said 
Nicholas,  placing  the  decanter  upon  the  table  ; “make  much 
of  it,  for  there  isn’t  such  dew  in  the  county.” 

With  this  commendation  upon  the  liquor,  Nicholas  departed, 
and  we  proceeded  to  fill  our  glasses. 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


203 


I cannot  venture — perhaps  it  is  so  much  the  better  that  I 
cannot — to  give  any  idea  of  the  conversation  which  at  once 
broke  out,  as  if  the  barriers  that  restrained  it  had  at  length 
given  way.  But  law  talk  in  all  its  plenitude  followed  ; and  for 
two  hours  I heard  of  nothing  but  writs,  detainers,  declarations, 
traverses  in  prox,  and  alibis,  with  sundry  hints  for  qui  tam 
processes , interspersed,  occasionally,  with  sly  jokes  about 
packing  juries  and  confusing  witnesses,  among  which  figured 
the  usual  number  of  good  things  attributed  to  the  Chief 
Baron  O’Grady,  and  the  other  sayers  of  smart  sayings  at  the 
bar. 

“ Ah  ! ” said  Mr.  Daly,  drawing  a deep  sigh  at  the  same 
instant — “ the  bar  is  sadly  fallen  off  since  I was  called  in  the 
year  seventy-six.  There  was  not  a leader  in  one  of  the 
circuits  at  that  time  that  couldn’t  puzzle  any  jury  that  ever 
sat  in  a box  ; and  as  for  driving  through  an  act  of  Parliament, 
it  was,  as  Sancho  Panza  says,  cakes  and  gingerbead  to  them. 
And  then,  there  is  one  especial  talent  lost  forever  to  the 
present  generation — just  like  stained  glass  and  illuminated 
manuscripts,  and  slow  poisons,  and  the  like — that  were  all 
known  years  ago — I mean  the  beautiful  art  of  addressing  the 
judge  before  the  jury,  and  not  letting  them  know  you  were 
quizzing  them,  if  ye  liked  to  do  that  same.  Poor  Peter  Pur- 
cell for  that — rest  his  ashes — he  could  cheat  the  devil  him- 
self if  he  had  need — and  maybe  he  has  had  before  now. 
Peter  is  sixteen  years  dead  last  November.” 

“ And  what  was  Peter’s  peculiar  tact  in  that  respect,  Mr. 
Daly  ? ” said  I. 

“ Oh,  then,  I might  try  for  hours  to  explain  it  to  you  in 
vain  ; but  I’ll  just  give  you  an  instance,  that’ll  show  you  better 
than  all  my  dissertations  on  the  subject,  and  I was  present 
myself  when  it  happened,  more  by  token  it  was  the  first 
time  I ever  met  him  on  circuit : 

“ I suppose  there  is  scarcely  any  one  here  now,  except 
myself,  that  remembers  the  great  cause  of  Mills  versus 
Mulcahy,  a widow,  and  others,  that  was  tried  at  Ennis,  in 
the  year  ’82.  It’s  no  matter  if  there  is  not.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  more  agreeable  for  me,  for  I can  tell  my  story  in  my  own 
version,  and  not  be  interrupted.  Well,  that  was  called  the 
old  record,  for  they  tried  it  seventeen  times.  I believe,  on  my 
conscience,  it  killed  old  Jones,  who  was  in  the  Common 
Pleas;  he  used  to  say,  if  he  put  it  for  trial  on  the  Day  of 
Judgment,  one  of  the  parties  would  be  sure  to  lodge  an  appeal. 


204 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


Be  that  as  it  may,  the  Millses  engaged  Peter,  special,  and 
brought  him  down  with  a great  retainer,  in  a chaise  and  four, 
flags  flying,  and  favors  in  the  postilions’  hats,  and  a fiddler 
on  the  roof,  playing  the  ‘ Hare  in  the  Corn.’  The  inn  was 
illuminated  the  same  evening,  and  Peter  made  a speech  from 
the  windows  upon  the  liberty  of  the  press  and  religious  free- 
dom all  over  the  globe,  and  there  wasn’t  a man  in  the  mob 
didn’t  cheer  him,  which  was  the  more  civil,  because  few  of 
them  knew  a word  of  English,  and  the  others  thought  he 
was  a play-actor.  But  it  all  went  off  well,  nevertheless,  for 
Peter  was  a clever  fellow ; and  although  he  liked  money  well, 
he  liked  popularity  more,  and  he  never  went  anywhere  special 
that  he  hadn’t  a public  meeting  of  some  kind  or  other,  either 
to  abolish  rents,  or  suppress  parsons,  or  some  such  popular 
and  beneficial  scheme,  which  always  made  him  a great  favorite 
with  the  people,  and  got  him  plenty  of  clients.  But  I am 
wandering  from  the  record.  Purcell  came  down,  as  I said 
before,  special  for  Mills  ; and  when  he  looked  over  his  brief, 
and  thought  of  the  case,  he  determined  to  have  it  tried  by  a 
gentlemen  jury,  for,  although  he  was  a great  man  with  the 
mob,  he  liked  the  country  gentlemen  better  in  the  jury-box, 
for  he  was  always  coming  out  with  quotations  from  the 
classics,  which,  whether  the  grand  jury  understood  or  not, 
they  always  applauded  very  much.  Well,  when  he  came 
into  court  that  morning,  you  may  guess  his  surprise  and 
mortification  to  find  that  the  same  jury  that  had  tried  a 
common  ejectment  case  were  still  in  the  box,  and  waiting, 
by  the  chief  justice’s  direction,  to  try  Mills  versus  Mulcahy, 
the  great  case  of  the  assizes. 

“ I hear  they  were  a set  of  common  clod-hopping  wretches, 
with  frieze  coats  and  brogues,  that  no  man  could  get  round 
at  all,  for  they  were  as  cunning  as  foxes,  and  could  tell  blarney 
from  good  sense,  rather  better  than  people  with  better  coats 
on  them. 

“ Now,  the  moment  that  Mr.  Purcell  came  into  the  court, 
after  bowing  politely  to  the  judge,  he  looked  up  to  the  box, 
and  wrhen  he  saw  the  dirty  faces  of  the  dealers  in  pork  and 
potatoes,  and  the  unshaven  chins  of  the  small  farmers,  his 
heart  fell  within  him,  and  he  bnew  in  a minute  how  little 
they’d  care  for  the  classics — if  he  quoted  Caesar’s  Commen- 
taries itself  for  them — ignorant  creatures  as  they  w^ereJ 

“ Well,  the  cause  was  called,  and  up  gets  Peter,  and  he 
began  to  ‘ express  ’ ^as  he  always  called  it  himself)  ‘ the 


kARRY  LORREQUER. 


20$ 

great  distress  his  client  and  himself  would  labor  under,  if 
the  patient  and  most  intelligent  jury  then  on  the  panel  should 
come  to  the  consideration  of  so  very  tedious  a case  as  this 
promised  to  be,  after  their  already  most  fatiguing  exertions  ; ’ 
lie  commented  upon  their  absence  from  their  wives  and 
families,  their  farms  neglected,  their  crops  hazarded,  and  in 
about  fifteen  minutes  he  showed 'them  they  were,  if  not  speed- 
ily released  and  sent  home,  worse  treated  and  harder  used 
than  many  of  the  prisoners  condemned  to  three  months’ 
imprisonment ; and  actually  so  far  worked  upon  the  feelings 
of  the  chief  himself,  that  he  turned  to  the  foreman  of  the 
jury  and  said,  4 that  although  it  was  a great  deviation  from 
his  habitual  practice,  if  at  this  pressing  season  their  prospects 
were  involved  to  the  extent  the  learned  counsel  had  pictured, 
why,  then,  that  he  would  so  far  bend  his  practice  on  this 
occasion,  and  they  should  be  dismissed.’  Now,  Peter,  I must 
confess,  here  showed  the  most  culpable  ignorance  in  not 
knowing  that  a set  of  country  fellows,  put  up  in  a jury- 
box,  would  rather  let  every  blade  of  corn  rot  in  the  ground 
than  give  up  what  they  always  supposed  so  very  respectable 
an  appointment ; for  they  invariably  imagine  in  these  cases 
that  they  are  something  very  like  my  lord  the  judge,  4 barrin’ 
the  ermine ;’  besides,  that  on  the  present  occasion,  Peter’s 
argument  in  their  favor  decided  them  upon  staying,  for  they 
now  felt  like  martyrs,  and  firmly  believed  that  they  were 
putting  the  chief  justice  under  an  obligation  for  life. 

4 4 When,  therefore,  they  heard  the  question  of  the  court, 
it  did  not  take  a moment’s  time  for  the  whole  body  to  rise 
en  masse , and,  bowing  to  the  judge,  call  out,  4 We’ll  stay,  my 
lord,  and  try  every  mother’s  son  of  them  for  you  ; ay,  if  it 
lasted  till  Christmas.’ 

4 4 4 1 am  sure,  my  lord,’  said  Peter,  collecting  himself  for 
an  effort,  4 1 cannot  sufficiently  express  my  gratitude  for  the 
great  sacrifice  these  gifted  and  highly  intelligent  gentlemen 
are  making  in  my  client’s  behalf ; for,  being  persons  who 
have  great  interest  in  the  country  at  stake,  their  conduct  on 
the  present  occasion  is  the  more  praiseworthy ; and  I am 
certain  they  fully  appreciate,  as  does  your  lordship,  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  case  before  us,  when  documents  will  be  sub- 
mitted, requiring  a certain  degree  of  acquaintance  with  such 
testimonials  sufficiently  to  comprehend.  Many  of  the  title 
deeds,  as  your  lordship  is  aware,  being  obtained  under  old 
abbey  charters,  are  in  the  learned  languages  ; and  we  all 


20  6 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


know  how  home  to  our  hearts  and  bosoms  comes  the  beauti- 
ful line  of  the  Greek  poet,  “Vacuus  viator  cantabit  ante 
latronem."  ' The  sound  of  the  quotation  roused  the  chief 
justice,  who  had  been  in  some  measure  inattentive  to  the 
preceding  part  of  the  learned  counsel's  address,  and  he  called 
out  rather  sharply,  ‘ Greek  ! Mr.  Purcell — why,  I must  have 
mistaken — will  you  repeat  the  passage  ? ' 

“ i With  pleasure,  my  lord.  I was  just  observing  to  your 
lordship  and  the  jury,  with  the  elegant  poet,  Hergesius, 
“ Vacuus  viator  cantabit  ante  latronem."  9 

“ 4 Greek,  did  you  call  it  ? 9 

“‘Yes,  my  lord,  of  course I did.' 

“ 4 Why,  Mr.  Purcell,  you  are  quoting  Latin  to  me — and 
what  do  you  mean  by  talking  of  the  learned  Hergesius,  and 
Greek  all  the  time  ? — the  line  is  Juvenal’s.' 

“ ‘ My  lord,  with  much  submission  to  your  lordship,  and 
every  deference  to  your  great  attainments  and  very  superior 
talents,  let  me  still  assure  you  that  I am  quoting  Greek,  and 
that  your  lordship  is  in  error.' 

“ ‘ Mr.  Purcell,  I have  only  to  remark,  that  if  you  are 
desirous  to  make  a jest  of  the  court,  you  had  better  be  cau- 
tious, sir  ; ' and  here  the  judge  waxed  exceeding  wroth.  4 1 
say  the  line  is  Latin — Latin,  sir,  Juvenal's  Latin,  sir — every 
schoolboy  knows  it ! ' 

“ ‘ Of  course,  my  lord,'  said  Peter,  with  great  humility,  ‘ I 
bow  myself  to  the  decision  of  your  lordship ; the  line  is, 
therefore,  Latin.  Yet  I may  be  permitted  to  hint  that  were 
your  lordship  disposed  to  submit  this  question,  as  you  are 
shortly  about  to  do  another  and  a similar  one,  to  those  clear- 
sighted and  intelligent  gentlemen  there,  I am  satisfied,  my 
lord,  it  would  be  Greek  to  every  man  of  them.' 

“ The  look,  the  voice,  and  the  peculiar  emphasis  with 
which  Peter  gave  these  words  were  perfectly  successful. 
The  acute  judge  anticipated  the  wish  of  the  counsel — the 
jury  were  dismissed,  and  Peter  proceeded  in  his  case  before 
those  he  knew  better  how  to  deal  with  and  with  whom  the 
result  was  more  certain  to  be  as  he  wished  it." 

To  this  anecdote  of  the  counsellor  succeeded  many  others, 
of  which,  as  the  whisky  was  potent  and  the  hour  late,  my 
memory  is  not  over  retentive  ; the  party  did  not  break  up 
till  near  four  o’clock;  and  even  then,  our  seance  only  con- 
cluded because  some  one  gravely  remarked,  “ that  as  we 
should  be  all  actively  engaged  on  the  morrow,  early  hours 
were  advisable." 


HARRY  LORREQUER* 


207 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  ASSIZE  TOWN. 

I had  not  been  above  a week  in  my  new  quarters,  when 
my  servant  presented  me,  among  my  letters,  one  morning, 
with  a packet,  which,  with  considerable  pains,  I at  length 
recognized  to  be  directed  to  me.  The  entire  envelope  was 
covered  with  writing  in  various  hands,  among  which  I detected 
something  which  bore  a faint  resemblance  to  my  name ; but 
the  address  which  followed  was  perfectly  unreadable,  not 
only  to  me  as  it  appeared,  but  also  the  “ experts  ” of  the  differ- 
ent post-offices,  for  it  had  been  followed  by  sundry  directions  to 
try  various  places  beginning  with  T,  which  seemed  to  be  the 
letter  commencing  the  “ great  unknown  locality ; ” thus  I 
read  “ Try  Tralee/’  “Try  Tyrone,”  “ Try  Tanderagee,”  etc., 
etc.  I wonder  that  they  didn’t  add,  “ Try  Teheran,”  and  I 
suppose  they  would  at  last,  rather  than  abandon  the  pursuit. 

“ But,  Stubbes,”  said  I,  as  I conned  over  the  various 
addresses  on  this  incomprehensible  cover,  “ are  you  sure 
this  is  for  me  ? ” 

“ The  postmaster,  sir*,  desired  me  to  ask  you  if  you’d  have 
it,  for  he  has  offered  it  to  every  one  down  in  these  parts 
lately  ; the  water-guard  offices  will  take  it  at  8d.  sir,  if  you 
won’t,  but  I begged  you  might  have  the  refusal.” 

“ Oh  ! very  well ; I am  happy  to  find  matters  are  managed 
so  impartially  in  the  post-office  here.  Nothing  like  a public 
auction  for  making  matters  find  their  true  level.  Tell  the 
postmaster,  then,  I’ll  keep  the  letter,  and  the  rather  as  it 
happens,  by  good  luck,  to  be  intended  for  me.” 

“ And  now  for  the  interior,”  said  I,  as  I broke  the  seal  and 
read : 

“ Paris,  Rue  Castiglione. 

“ My  dear  M.  Lorrequer, — As  her  ladyship  and  my  son 
have  in  vain  essayed  to  get  anything  from  you  in  the  shape 
of  reply  to  their  letters,  it  has  devolved  upon  me  to  try  my 
fortune,  which,  were  I to  argue  from  the  legibility  of  my 
writing,  may  not,  I should  fear,  prove  more  successful  tha» 


2 oS 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


the” — (what  can  the  word  be?) — “ the — the  ” — why,  it  can’t 
be  damnable,  surely  ? — no,  it  is  amiable  I see — “ than  the 
amiable  epistle  of  my  lady.  I cannot,  however,  permit  my- 
self to  leave  this  without  apprising  you  that  we  are  about  to 
start  for  Baden,  where  we  purpose  remaining  a month  or  two. 
Your  cousin  Guy,  who  has  been  staying  here  for  some  time 
with  us,  has  been  obliged  to  set  out  for  Geneva,  but  hopes 
to  join  us  some  weeks  hence.  He  is  a great  favorite  with  us 
all,  but  has  not  effaced  the  memory  of  our  older  friend,  your- 
self. Could  you  not  find  means  to  come  over  and  see  us — 
if  only  a flying  visit  ? Rotterdam  is  the  route,  and  a few 
days  would  bring  you  to  our  quarters.  Hoping  that  you  may 
feel  so  disposed,  I have  inclosed  herewith  a letter  to  the 
Horse  Guards,  which  I trust  may  facilitate  your  obtaining 
leave  of  absence.  I know  of  no  other  mode  of  making  your 
peace  with  the  ladies,  who  are  too  highly  incensed  at  your 
desertion  to  send  one  civil  postscript  to  this  letter ; and 
Kilkee  and  myself  are  absolutely  exhausted  in  our  defence 
of  you.  Believe  me,  yours  truly, 

“ Callonby.” 

Had  I received  an  official  notification  of  my  being  appointed 
paymaster  to  the  forces,  or  chaplain  to  Chelsea  hospital,  I 
believe  I should  have  received  the  information  with  less  sur- 
prise than  I perused  this  letter.  That  after  the  long  interval 
which  had  elapsed,  during  which  I had  considered  myself 
totally  forgotten  by  this  family,  I should  now  receive  a letter 
— and  such  a letter  too — quite  in  the  vein  of  our  former 
intimacy  and  good  feeling,  inviting  me  to  their  house,  and 
again  professing  their  willingness  that  I should  be  on  the 
terms  of  our  old  familiarity — was  little  short  of  wonderful  to 
me.  I read  too — with  what  pleasure  ? — that  slight  mention 
of  my  cousin,  whom  I had  so  long  regarded  as  my  successful 
rival,  but  who  I began  now  to  hope  had  not  been  preferred 
to  me.  Perhaps  it  was  not  yet  too  late  to  think  that  all  was 
not  hopeless.  It  appeared,  too,  that  several  letters  had  been 
written  which  had  never  reached  me  ; so,  while  I accused 
them  of  neglect  and  forgetfulness,  I was  really  more  amenable 
to  the  charge  myself ; for  from  the  moment  I had  heard  of 
my  cousin  Guy’s  having  been  domesticated  amongst  them, 
and  the  rumors  oft  his  marriage  had  reached  me,  I suffered 
my  absurd  jealousy  to  blind  my  reason,  and  never  wrote 
another  line  after.  I ought  to  have  known  how  “bayard” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


209 


Guy  always  was  ; ' that  he  never  met  with  the  most  common- 
place attentions  anywhere,  that  he  did  not  immediately  write 
home  about  settlements  and  pin-money,  and  portions  for 
younger  children,  and  all  that  sort  of  nonsense.  Now  I saw 
it  all  plainly,  and  ten  thousand  times  quicker  than  my  hopes 
were  extinguished  before  were  they  again  kindled,  and  I 
could  not  refrain  from  regarding  Lady  Jane  as  a mirror  of 
constancy,  and  myself  the  most  fortunate  man  in  Europe. 
My  old  castle-building  propensities  came  back  to  me  in  an 
instant,  and  I pictured  myself,  with  Lady  Jane  as  my  com- 
panion, wandering  ataong  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Neckar, 
beneath  the  lofty  ruins  of  Heidelberg,  or  skimming  the  placid 
surface  of  the  Rhine,  while,  “ mellowed  by  distance,”  came 
the  rich  chorus  of  a student’s  melody,  filling  the  air  with  its 
flood  of  song.  How  delightful,  I thought,  to  be  reading  the 
lyrics  of  Uhland  or  Burger  with  one  so  capable  of  appreciat- 
ing them  with  all  the  hallowed  associations  of  the  “ Vater- 
land”  about  us.  “Yes,”  said  I aloud,  repeating  a well- 
known  line  of  a German  “ Lied  : ” 

“Bekranzt  mit  Laub,  den  lieben  vollen  Becher.” 

“ Upon  my  conscience,”  said  Mr.  Daly,  who  had  for  some 
time  past  been  in  silent  admiration  of  my  stage-struck  appear- 
ance— “ upon  my  conscience,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I had  no  con- 
ception you  knew  Irish.” 

The  mighty  talisman  of  the  counsellor’s  voice  brought  me 
back  in  a moment  to  a consciousness  of  where  I was  then 
standing,  and  the  still  more  unfortunate  fact  that  I was  only 
a subaltern  in  his  majesty’s  — th 

“ Why,  my  dear  counsellor,  that  was  German  I was  quot- 
ing, not  Irish.” 

“With  all  my  heart,”  said  Mr.  Daly,  breaking  the  top  of 
his  third  egg — “with  all  my  heart;  I’d  rather  you’d  talk  it 
than  me.  * Much  conversation  in  that  tongue,  I’m  thinking, 
would  be  mighty  apt  to  loosen  one’s  teeth.” 

“ Not  at  all,  it  is  the  most  beautiful  language  in  Europe, 
and  the  most  musical  too.  Why,  even  for  your  own  peculiar 
taste  in  such  matters,  where  can  you  find  any  language  so 
rich  in  Bacchanalian  songs  as  the  German  ? ” 

“I’d  rather  hear  the  ‘ Cruiskeen  Lawn  ’ or  the  ‘Jug  of 
Punch,’  as  my  old  friend  Pat  Sampson  could  sing  them,  than 
a score  of  your  high  Dutch  jaw-breakers.” 

*4 


210 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


“ Shame  upon  ye,  Mr.  Daly  ; and  for  pathos,  for  true  feel- 
ing, where  is  there  anything  equal  to  Schiller’s  ballads  ? ” 

“ I don’t  think  I ever  heard  any  of  his  ; but  if  you  will 
talk  of  ballads,”  said  the  counsellor,  “ give  me  old  Mosey 
McGarry’s  ; what’s  finer  than  ” — and  here  he  began,  with  a 
most  nasal  twang  and  dolorous  emphasis,  to  sing  : 

“ 1 And  I stepp’d  up  unto  her, 

An’  I made  a congee — 

An’  I ax’d  her  her  pardon, 

For  the  making  so  free.’ 

And  then  the  next  verse,  she  says : 

“ 4 Are  you  goin’  to  undo  me, 

In  this  desert  alone  ? ’ 

There’s  a shake  there.” 

“ For  heaven’s  sake,”  I cried,  “ stop  ; when  I spoke  of  bal- 
lads, I never  meant  such  infernal  stuff  as  that.” 

“ I’ll  not  give  up  my  knowledge  of  ballads  to  any  man 
breathing,”  said  Mr.  Daly  ; “ and,  with  God’s  blessing,  I’ll 
sing  you  one  this  evening,  after  dinner,  that  will  give  you  a 
cramp  in  the  stomach.” 

. An  animated  discussion  upon  lyrical  poetry  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  a summons  from  our  host  to  set  out  for  the  town. 
My  party  were,  by  the  desire  of  the  magistracy,  to  be  in 
readiness  near  the  court-house,  in  the  event  of  any  serious 
disturbance,  which  there  existed  but  too  much  reason  to  fear 
from  the  highly  excited  state  of  feeling  on  the  subject  of  the 
approaching  trials.  The  soldiers  were,  under  the  guidance 
of  Mr.  Larkins,  safely  ensconced  in  a tan-yard,  and  I myself 
having  consigned  them  for  the  present  to  a non-commissioned 
officer,  was  left  at  perfect  liberty  to  dispose  of  my  time  and 
person  as  it  might  please  me. 

While  these  arrangements  were  taking  place,  I had  entirely 
lost  sight  of  Mr.  Daly,  under  whose  guidance  and  protection 
I trusted  to  obtain  a place  within  the  bar  to  hear  the  trials ; 
so  that  I was  now  perfectly  alone,  for  my  host’s  numerous 
avocations  entirely  precluded  any  thought  of  putting  myself 
under  his  care. 

My  first  object  was  to  reach  the  court-house,  and  there 
could  be  little  difficulty  in  finding  it,  for  the  throng  of  per- 
sons in  the  streets  were  all  eagerly  bending  their  way  thither. 
I accordingly  followed  with  the  stream,  and  soon  found  my- 
self among  an  enormous  multitude  of  frieze-coated  and  red- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2 1 i 


cloaked  people,  of  both  sexes,  in  a large  open  square,  which 
formed  the  market-place,  one  side  of  which  was  flanked  by 
the  court-house — for  as  such  I immediately  recognized  a 
massive-looking  gray  stone  building — in  which  the  numerous 
windows,  all  open  and  filled  with  people,  exhaled  a continued 
stream  from  the  crowded  atmosphere  within.  To  approach 
it  was  perfectly  impossible  : for  the  square  was  packed  so 
closely,  that  as  the  people  approached,  by  the  various  streets, 
they  were  obliged  to  stand  in  the  avenues  leading  to  it,  and 
regard  what  was  going  on  from  a distance.  Of  this  large 
multitude  I soon  became  one,  hoping  that  at  length  some 
fortunate  opportunity  might  enable  me  to  obtain  admission 
through  some  of  my  legal  acquaintances. 

That  the  fate  of  those  who  were  then  upon  their  trial  for 
their  lives  absorbed  the  entire  feeling  of  those  without,  a mo- 
mentary glance  at  the  hundreds  of  anxious  and  careworn  faces 
in  the  crowd  would  completely  satisfy.  Motionless  and  silent 
they  stood  ; they  felt  no  fatigue — no  want  of  food  or  refresh- 
ment— their  interest  was  one  and  undivided — all  their  hopes 
and  fears  were  centred  in  the  events  then  passing  at  a short 
distance  from  them,  but  to  which  their  ignorance  imparted  an 
additional  and  more  painful  excitement — the  only  information 
of  how  matters  were  going  on  being  by  an  occasional  word, 
sometimes  a mere  gesture  from  some  one  stationed  in  the 
windows  to  a friend  in  the  crowd.  . 

When  the  contemplation  of  this  singularly  impressive  scene 
was  beginning  to  weary  from  the  irksomeness  of  my  position, 
I thought  of  retiring  ; but  soon  discovered  how  impossible  was 
such  a step.  The  crowd  had  blocked  up  so  completely  all 
the  avenues  of  approach,  that  even  had  I succeeded  in  get- 
ting from  the  market-place,  it  would  be  only  to  remain  firmly 
impacted  among  the  mob  in  the  street. 

It  now  also  occurred  to  me,  that  although  I had  been 
assured  by  Larkins  no  call  could  possibly  be  made  upon  my 
services,  or  those  of  my  party,  till  after  the  trial,  yet,  were 
that  to  conclude  at  any  moment,  I should  be  perfectly  unable 
to  regain  the  place  where  I had  stationed  them,  and  the  most 
serious  consequences  might  ensue  from  the  absence  of  their 
officer,  if  the  men  were  required  to  act. 

From  the  time  this  thought  took  possession  of  me,  I became 
excessively  uncomfortable.  Every  expression  of  the  people 
that  denoted  the  progress  of  the  trial,  only  alarmed  ine  for 
the  conclusion,  which,  I supposed,  might  not  be  distant,  and 


HARRY  LORREQVElt 


Hi 


I began,  with  all  my  ingenuity,  to  attempt  my  retreat,  which* 
after  half  an  hour’s  severe  struggle,  I completely  abandoned, 
finding  myself  scarcely  ten  yards  from  where  I started. 

At  length,  the  counsel  for  the  crown,  wdio  had  been  speak* 
ing  to  evidence,  ceased  ; and  an  indistinct  murmur  was  heard 
through  the  court-house,  which  was  soon  repressed  by  the 
voice  of  the  crier  calling  “ silence.”  All  now  seemed  still  and 
silent  as  the  grave — yet,  on  listening  attentively  for  some  time, 
you  could  catch  the  low  tones  of  a voice  speaking,  as  it 
appeared,  with  great  deliberation  and  slowness.  This  wras 
the  judge  addressing  the  jury.  In  a short  time  this  also 
ceased  ; and,  for  about  half  an  hour,  the  silence  was  perfectly 
unbroken,  and  both  within  and  without  there  reigned  one  in- 
tense and  aching  sense  of  anxiety  that  absorbed  every  feeling, 
and  imparted  to  every  face  an  expression  of  almost  agonizing 
uncertainty.  It  was,  indeed,  a space  well  calculated  to  excite 
such  emotions.  The  jury  had  retired  to  deliberate  upon  their 
verdict.  At  length  a door  was  heard  to  open,  and  the  foot- 
steps of  the  jury,  as  they  resumed  their  places,  sounded 
through  the  court,  and  were  heard  by  those  without.  How 
heavily  upon  many  a stout  heart  those  footsteps  fell ! They 
had  taken  their  seats — then  came  another  pause — after  which 
the  monotonous  tones  of  the  clerk  of  the  court  were  heard, 
addressing  the  jury  for  their  verdict.  As  the  foreman  rises 
every  ear  is  bent — every  eye  strained — every  heart-string 
vibrates  : his  lips  move,  but  he  is  not  heard  ; he  is  desired  by 
the  judge  to  speak  louder ; the  color  mounts  to  his  before 
bloodless  face ; he  appears  to  labor  for  a few  seconds  with  a 
mighty  effort,  and,  at  last,  pronounces  the  word,  “ Guilty,  my 
Lord,  all  guilty  ! ” 

I have  heard  the  wild  war-whoop  of  the  red  Indian,  as,  in 
his  own  pine  forest,  he  has  unexpectedly  come  upon  the  track 
of  his  foe,  and  the  almost  extinguished  hope  of  vengeance 
has  been  kindled  again  in  his  cruel  heart ; I have  listened  to 
the  scarcely  less  savage  hurrah  of  a storming  party,  as  they 
have  surmounted  the  crumbling  ruins  of  a breach,  and  devoted 
to  fire  and  sword,  with  that  one  yell,  all  who  await  them  ; and 
once  in  my  life  it  h^.s  been  my  fortune  to  have  heard  the  last 
yell  of  defiance  from  a pirate  crew,  as  they  sunk  beneath  the 
raking  fire  of  a frigate,  rather  than  surrender,  and  went  dowrn 
with  a cheer  of  defiance  that  rose  even  above  the  red  artillery 
that  destroyed  but  could  not  subdue  them  ; but  never,  in  any 
or  all  of  these  awful  moments,  did  my  heart  vibrate  to  such 


HARRY  LORREQUeR. 


Sounds  as  rent  the  air  when  the  fatal  “Guilty  ” was  heard  by 
those  within,  and  repeated  to  those  without.  It  was  not  grief 
— it  was  not  despair — neither  was  it  the  cry  of  sharp  and 
irrepressible  anguish,  from  a suddenly  blighted  hope ; but  it 
was  the  long  pent-up  and  carefully  concealed  burst  of  feeling 
which  called  aloud  for  vengeance — red  and  reeking  revenge 
upon  all  who  had  been  instrumental  in  the  sentence  then 
delivered.  It  ceased,  and  I looked  toward  the  court-house, 
expecting  that  an  immediate  and  desperate  attack  upon  the 
building  and  those  whom  it  contained  would  at  once  take 
place.  But  nothing  of  the  kind  ensued.  The  mob  were 
already  beginning  to  disperse,  and  before  I recovered  per- 
fectly from  the  excitement  of  these  few  and  terrible  moments, 
the  square  was  nearly  empty,  and  I almost  felt  as  if  the  wild 
and  frantic  denunciation  that  still  rang  through  my  ears  had 
been  conjured  up  by  heated  and  fevered  imagination. 

When  I again  met  our  party  at  the  dinner-table,  I could  not 
help  feeling  surprised  on  perceiving  how  little  they  sympa- 
thized in  my  feeling  for  the  events  of  the  day  ; which,  indeed, 
they  only  alluded  to  in  a professional  point  of  view,  criticis- 
ing the  speeches  of  the  counsel  on  both  sides,  and  the  char- 
acter of  the  different  witnesses  who  were  examined. 

“ Well,”  said  Mr.  Daly,  addressing  our  host,  “ you  never 
could  have  had  a conviction  to-day  if  it  wasn’t  for  Mike. 
He’s  the  best  evidence  I ever  heard.  I’d  like  to  know  very 
much  how  you  ever  got  so  clever  a fellow  completely  in  your 
clutches  ? ” 

“ By  a mere  accident,  and  very  simply,”  replied  the  justice. 
“It  was  upon  one  of  our  most  crowded  fair-days — half  the 
county  was  in  town — when  the  information  arrived  that  the 
Walshes  were  murdered  the  night  before,  at  the  cross-roads 
above  Telenamuck  mills.  The  news  reached  me  as  I was 
signing  some  tithe  warrants,  one  of  which  was  against  Mickey. 
I sent  for  him  into  the  office,  knowing  that,  as  he  was  in  the 
secret  of  all  the  evil  doings,  I might  as  well  pretend  to  do  him 
a service,  and  offer  to  stop  the  warrant,  out  of  kindness,  as  it 
were.  Well,  one  way  or  another,  he  was  kept  waiting  for 
several  hours  while  I was  engaged  in  writing,  and  all  the 
country  people,  as  they  passed  the  window,  could  look  in  and 
see  Mickey  Sheehan  standing  before  me  while  I was  employed 
busily  writing  letters.  It  was  just  at  this  time  that  a mounted 
policeman  rode  in  with  the  account  of  the  murder  ; upon  which 
I immediately  issued  a warrant  to  arrest  the  two  MacNeils 


214 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


and  Owen  Shirley  upon  suspicion.  I thought  I saw  Mika 
turn  pale,  as  I said  the  names  over  to  the  sergeant  of  police, 
and  I at  once  determined  to  turn  it  to  account ; so  I immedi- 
ately began  talking  to  Mickey  about  his  own  affairs,  break- 
ing off,  every  now  and  then,  to  give  some  directions  about 
the  men  to  be  captured.  The  crowd  outside  was  increasing 
every  instant,  and  you  need  not  have  looked  at  their  faces 
twice  to  perceive  that  they  had  regarded  Mickey  as  an  ap- 
prover ; and  the  same  night  that  saw  the  MacNeils  in  custody 
witnessed  the  burning  of  Sheehan’s  house  and  haggard,  and 
he  only  escaped  by  a miracle  over  to  Curryglass,  where  once 
under  my  protection,  with  the  imputation  upon  his  character 
of  having  turned  king’s  evidence,  I had  little  trouble  in  per- 
suading him  that  he  might  as  well  benefit  by  the  report  as 
enjoy  the  name  without  the  gain.  He  soon  complied,  and 
the  convictions  of  this  day  are  partly  the  result.” 

When  the  applause  which  greeted  this  clever  stroke  of  our 
host  had  subsided,  I inquired  what  results  might,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, follow  the  proceedings  of  which  I had  that  day  been  a 
witness  ? 

“ Nothing  will  be  done  immediately,”  replied  the  justice, 
“ because  we  have  a large  force  of  police  and  military  about 
us ; but  let  either,  or  unhappily  both,  be  withdrawn,  and  the 
cry  you  heard  given  in  the  market-place  to-day  will  be  the 
death-wail  for  more  than  one  of  those  who  are  well  and  hearty 
at  this  moment.” 

The  train  of  thought  inevitably  forced  upon  me  by  all  I 
had  been  a spectator  of  during  the  day  but  little  disposed  me 
to  be  a partaker  in  the  mirth  and  conviviality,  which,  as 
usual,  formed  the  staple  of  the  assize  dinners  of  Mr.  Larkins ; 
and  I accordingly  took  an  early  opportunity  to  quit  the  com- 
pany and  retire  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A DAY  IN  DUBLIN. 

On  the  third  day  of  my  residence  at  Curryglass,  arrived 
my  friend  Mortimer,  to  replace  me,  bringing  my  leave  from 
the  colonel,  and  a most  handsome  letter,  in  which  he  again 
glanced  at  the  prospect  before  me  in  the  Callonby  family, 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2I5 


and  hinted  at  my  destination,  which  I had  not  alluded  to, 
adding  that  if  I made  the  pretence  of  study  in  Germany  the 
reason  for  my  application  at  the  Horse  Guards,  I should  be 
almost  certain  to  obtain  a six  months’  leave.  With  what 
spirits  I ordered  Stubbes  to  pack  up  my  portmanteau,  and 
secure  our  places  in  the  Dublin  mail  for  that  night,  while  I 
myself  hurried  to  take  leave  of  my  kind  entertainer  and  his 
guests,  as  well  as  to  recommend  to  their  favor  and  atten- 
tion my  excellent  friend  Mortimer,  who,  being  a jovial  fellow, 
not  at  all  in  love,  was  a happy  exchange  for  me,  who,  despite 
Daly’s  capital  stories,  had  spent  the  last  two  days  in  watch- 
ing the  high-road  for  my  successor’s  arrival. 

Once  more,  then,  I bade  adieu  to  Curryglass  and  its  hospi 
table  'owner,  whose  labors  for  “ justice  to  Ireland  ” I shall 
long  remember,  and  depositing  myself  in  the  bowels  of  his 
majesty’s  mail,  gave  way  to  the  full  current  of  my  hopes  and 
imaginings,  which  at  last  ended  in  a sound  and  refreshing 
sleep,  from  which  I only  awoke  as  we  drew  up  at  the  door  of 
the  Hibernian  in  Dawson  Street. 

Even  at  that  early  hour  there  was  considerable  bustle  and 
activity  of  preparation,  which  I was  at  some  loss  to  account 
for,  till  informed  by  the  waiter  that  there  were  upward  of 
three  hundred  strangers  in  the  house,  it  being  the  day  of  his 
majesty’s  expected  arrival  on  his  visit  to  Ireland,  and  a very 
considerable  section  of  the  county  Galway  being  at  that 
moment,  with  their  wives  and  families,  installed,  for  the 
occasion,  in  this,  their  favorite  hotel. 

Although  I had  been  reading  of  this  approaching  event 
every  day  for  the  last  three  months,  I could  not  help  feeling 
surprised  at  the  intense  appearance  of  excitement  it  occa- 
sioned, and,  in  the  few  minutes’  conversation  I held  with  the 
waiter,  learned  the  total  impossibility  of  procuring  a lodging 
anywhere,  and  that  I could  not  have  a bed,  even  were  I to 
offer  five  guineas  for  it.  Having  therefore  no  inclination  to 
sleep  even  upon  easier  terms,  I ordered  my  breakfast  to  be 
ready  at  ten,  and  set  out  upon  a stroll  through  the  town.  I 
could  not  help,  in  my  short  ramble  through  the  streets,  per- 
ceiving how  admirably  adapted  were  the  worthy  Dublinites 
for  all  the  honors  that  awaited  them  ; garlands  of  flowers, 
transparencies,  flags,  and  the  other  insignia  of  rejoicing,  were 
everywhere  in  preparation,  and  at  the  end  of  Sackville  Street 
a considerable  erection,  very  much  resembling  an  impromptu 
gallows,  was  being  built,  for  the  purpose,  as  I afterward 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 


216 

learned,  of  giving.the  worshipful,  the  lord  mayor,  the  op« 
portunity  of  opening  the  city  gates  to  royalty,  creating  the 
obstacle  where  none  existed  ; being  a very  ingenious  con- 
ceit, and  considerably  Irish  into  the  bargain.  I could  not 
help  feeling  some  desire  to  witness  how  all  should  go  off,  to 
use  the  theatrical  phrase;  but  in  my  anxiety  to  get  on  ^o 
the  Continent,  I at  once  abandoned  every  thought  of  delay. 
When  I returned  to  the  coffee-room  of  my  hotel,  I found  it 
crowded  to  excess  ; every  little  table,  originally  destined  for 
the  accommodation  of  one,  having  at  least  two,  and  sometimes 
three  occupants.  In  my  hurried  glance  round  the  room,  to 
decide  where  I should  place  myself,  I was  considerably  struck 
with  the  appearance  of  a stout  elderly  gentleman  with  red 
whiskers  and  a high  bald  forehead ; he  had,  although  the 
day  was  an  oppressively  hot  one,  three  waistcoats  on,  and  by 
the  brown  York  tan  of  his  long-topped  boots,  evinced  a very 
considerable  contempt  either  for  weather  or  fashion  ; in  the 
quick  glance  of  his  sharp  gray  eye,  I read  that  he  listened 
half  doubtingly  to  the  narrative  of  his  companion,  whose 
back  was  turned  toward  me,  but  who  appeared  from  the 
occasional  words  which  reached  me,  to  be  giving  a rather  mar- 
velous and  melo  dramatic  version  of  the  expected  pleasures 
of  the  capital.  There  was  something  in  the  tone  of  the 
speaker’s  voice  that  I thought  I recognized  ; I accordingly 
drew  near,  and  what  was  my  surprise  to  discover*  my  friend 
Tom  O’Flaherty.  After  our  first  salutation  was  over,  Tom 
presented  me  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Burke,  of  somewhere,  who, 
lie  continued  to  inform  me,  in  a stage  whisper,  was  “ a regular 
dust,”  and  never  in  Dublin  in  his  life  before. 

“ And  so  you  say,  sir,  that  his  majesty  cannot  enter  with- 
out the  permission  of  the  lord  mayor  ? ” 

“And  the  aldermen,  too,”  replied  Tom.  “It  is  an  old 
feudal  ceremony ; when  his  majesty  comes  up  to  the  gate, 
he  demands  admission,  and  the  lord  mayor  refuses,  because 
he  would  be  thus  surrendering  his  great  prerogative  of  head 
of  the  city  ; then  the  aldermen  get  about  him,  and  cajole  him, 
and  by  degrees  he’s  won  over  by  the  promise  of  being 
knighted,  and  the  king  gains  the  day,  and  enters.” 

“ Upon  my  conscience,  a mighty  ridiculous  ceremony  it  is, 
after  all,”  said  Mr.  Burke,  “ and  very  like  a bargain  for  sheep 
in  Ballinasloe  fair,  when  the  buyer  and  seller  appear  to  be 
going  to  fight,  till  a mutual  friend  settles  the  bargain  between 
them.” 


HARRY  LORREQURR, 


217 


At  this  moment  Mr.  Burke  suddenly  sprung  from  his 
chair,  which  was  nearest  the  window,  to  look  out ; I accord- 
ingly  followed  his  example,  and  beheld  a rather  ludicrous 
procession,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  consisting  of  so  few 
persons.  The  principal  individual  in  the  group  was  a florid, 
fat,  happy-looking  gentleman  of  about  fifty,  with  a profusion 
of  nearly  white  whiskers,  which  met  at  his  chin,  mounted 
upon  a sleek  charger,  whose  half-ambling,  half-prancing  pace 
had  evidently  been  acquired  by  long  habit  of  going  in  proces- 
sion ; this  august  figure  was  habited  in  a scarlet  coat  and 
cocked  hat,  having  aiguillettes,  and  all  the  other  appanage  of 
a general  officer ; he  also  wore  tight  buckskin  breeches  and 
high  jackboots,  like  those  of  the  Blues  and  Horse  Guards ; 
as  he  looked  from  side  to  side  with  a self-satisfied,  contented 
air,  he  appeared  quite  insensible  of  the  cortege  which  followed 
and  preceded  him  ; the  latter,  consisting  of  some  score  of 
half-ragged  boys,  yelling  and  shouting  with  all  their  might, 
and  the  former  being  a kind  of  instalment  in  hand  of  the 
Dublin  Militia  Band,  and  who,  in  numbers  and  equipment, 
closely  resembled  the  “ army  which  accompanies  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  Bombastes.”  The  only  difference,  that  these 
I speak  of  did  not  play  the  “ Rogue’s  March,”  which  might 
have  perhaps  appeared  personal. 

As  this  goodly  procession  advanced,  Mr.  Burke’s  eyes 
became  riveted  upon  it ; it  was  the  first  wonder  he  had  yet 
beheld,  and  he  devoured  it.  “ May  I ask,  sir,”  said  he  at 
length,  “ who  that  is  ? ” 

“ Who  that  is  ! ” said  Tom,  surveying  him  leisurely  as  he 
spoke,  “ why,  surely,  sir,  you  must  be  jesting,  or  you  would 
not  ask  such  a question  ; I trust,  indeed,  every  one  knows 
who  he  is.  Eh,  Harry  ? ” said  he,  looking  at  me  for  a con- 
firmation of  what  he  said,  and  to  which  of  course  I assented 
by  a look. 

“ Well,  but,  my  dear  Mr.  O’Flaherty,  you  forget  how  igno- 
rant I am  of  everything  here ” 

“ Ah,  true,”  said  Tom,  interrupting;  “ I forget  you  never 
saw  him  before.” 

“ And  who  is  he,  sir  ? ” 

“ Why,  that’s  the  Duke  of  Wellington.” 

“ Lord  have  mercy  upon  me,  is  it?”  said  Mr.  Burke,  as 
he  upset  the  table  and  all  its  breakfast  equipage,  and  rushed 
through  the  coffee-room  like  one  possessed.  Before  I could 
half  recover  from  the  fit  of  laughing  this  event  threw  me  into, 


2 iS 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


I heard  him  as  he  ran  at  full  speed  down  Dawson  Street, 
waving  his  hat  and  shouting  out  at  the  top  of  his  lungs, 
“ God  bless  your  grace — Long  life  to  your  grace — Hurrah 
for  the  hero  of  Waterloo  ; the  great  captain  of  the  age,”  etc., 
etc. ; which,  I grieve  to  say,  for  the  ingratitude  of  the  individ- 
ual lauded,  seemed  not  to  afford  him  half  the  pleasure  and 
none  of  the  amusement  it  did  the  mob,  who  re-echoed  the 
shouts  and  cheering  till  he  was  hid  within  the  precincts  of 
the  Mansion  House. 

“And  now,”  said  Tom  to  me,  “ finish  your  breakfast  as 
fast  as  possible  ; for  when  Burke  comes  back  he  will  be  bor- 
ing me  to  dine  with  him,  or  some  such  thing,  as  a kind  of 
acknowledgment  of  his  gratitude  for  showing  him  the  duke. 
Do  you  know  he  has  seen  more  wonders  through  my  poor 
instrumentality,  within  the  last  three  days  in  Dublin,  than  a 
six  months’  trip  to  the  Continent  would  show  most  men.  I 
have  made  him  believe  that  Burke  Bethel  is  Lord  Brougham, 
and  I am  about  to  bring  him  to  a soiree  at  Mi-Ladi’s  whom 
he  supposes  to  be  the  Marchioness  of  Conyngham.  Apropos 
to  the  Belissima,  let  me  tell  you  of  a 4 good  hit  ’ I was  witness 
to  a few  nights  since ; you  know,  perhaps,  old  Sir  Charles 
Giesecke,  eh  ? ” 

“ I have  seen  him  once,  I think — the  professor  of  miner- 
alogy.” 

“ Well,  poor  old  Sir  Charles,  one  of  the  most  modest  and 
retiring  men  in  existence,  was  standing  the  other  night 
among  the  mob,  in  one  of  the  drawing-rooms,  while  a waltz- 
ing-party were  figuring  away,  at  which,  with  that  fondness 
for  ‘ la  danse  ’ that  characterizes  every  German  of  any  age,  he 
was  looking  with  much  interest,  when  my  lady  came  tripping 
up,  and  the  following  short  dialogue  ensued  within  earshot : 

“ ‘ Ah,  mon  cher  Sir  Charles,  ravi  de  vous  voir.  But  why 
are  you  not  dancing  ? ’ 

“ ‘Ah,  mi  ladi,  je  ne  puis  pas,  c’est-a-dire,  Ich  kann  es 
nicht ; I am  too  old  ; Ich  bin ’ 

“ ‘ Oh,  you  horrid  man;  I understand  you  perfectly.  You 
hate  ladies,  that  is  the  real  reason.  You  do — you  know  you 
do.’ 

“ ‘ Ah,  mi  ladi,  Gnadige  frau  ; glauben  sie  mir ; I do  loave 
de  ladies ; I do  adore  de  sex.  Do  you  know,  mi  ladi,  when 
I was  in  Greenland  I did  keep  four  womans ! ’ 

“ 6 Oh,  shocking,  horrid,  vile  Sir  Charles,  how  could  you 
tell  me  such  a story  ! I shall  die  of  it.’ 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2 19 

“ 4 Ah,  mine  Gott ; mi  ladi  ; sie  irren  sich,  vous  vous 
trompez./  You  are  quite  in  mistake ; it  was  only  to  row  my 
boat  / ’ 

“ I leave  you  to  guess  how  my  lady’s  taste  for  the  broadside 
of  my  story,  and  poor  Sir  Charles’s  vindication  of  himself, 
in  regard  to  his  estimation  of  4 le  beau  sexe,’  amused  all  lirho 
heard  it ; as  for  me,  I had  to  leave  the  room,  half  choked 
with  suppressed  laughter.  And  now  let  us  bolt,  for  I see 
Burke  coming,  and,  upon  my  soul,  I am  tired  of  telling  him 
lies,  and  must  rest  on  my  oars  for  a few  hours,  at  least.” 

“ But  where  is  the  necessity  for  so  doing  ? ” said  I ; 
“ surely,  where  there  is  so  much  novelty  as  a large  city 
presents  to  a visitor  for  the  first  time,  there  is  little  occasion 
to  draw  upon  imagination  for  your  facts.” 

“ Ah,  my  dear  Harry,  how  little  do  you  know  of  life ; there 
is  a kind  of  man  whose  appetite  for  the  marvellous  is  such 
that  he  must  be  crammed  with  miracles  or  he  dies  of  inanb 
tion,  and  you  might  as  well  attempt  to  feed  a tiger  upon  pctte 
defois  gras  as  satisfy  him  by  mere  naked,  unvarnished  truth. 
I’ll  just  give  you  an  easy  illustration.  You  saw  his  delight 
this  morning  when  the  4 duke  ’ rode  past;  well,  I’ll  tell  you 
the  converse  of  that  proposition  now.  The  night  before  last, 
having  nothing  better  to  do,  we  went  to  the  theatre,  the  piece 
was  4 La  Perouse,’  which  they  have  been  playing  here  for  the 
last  two  months  to  crowded  houses,  to  exhibit  some  North 
American  Indians  whom  some  theatrical  speculator  brought 
over  4 expres,’  in  all  the  horrors  of  fur,  wampum,  and  yellow 
ochre.  Finding  the  4 spectacle  ’ rather  uninteresting,  I 
leaned  back  in  my  box,  and  fell  into  a doze.  Meanwhile, 
my  inquiring  friend,  Mr.  Burke,  who  felt  naturally  anxious, 
as  he  always  does,  to  get  au  fond  of  matters,  left  his  place  to 
obtain  information  about  the  piece,  the  author,  and  above  all 
the  authenticity  of  the  Indians,  who  certainly  astonished  him 
considerably. 

44  Now  it  so  happened  that  about  a fortnight  previously 
some  violent  passion  to  return  home  to  their  own  country 
had  seized  these  interesting  individuals,  and  they  felt  the 
most  irresistible  longing  to  abandon  the  savage  and  un- 
natural condiments  of  roast  beef  and  Guinness’s  porter,  and 
resume  their  ancient  and  more  civilized  habits  of  life.  In 
fact,  like  the  old  African  lady,  mentioned  by  the  missionary 
at  the  Cape,  they  felt  they  could  die  happy  if  they  4 could 
Dnly  once  more  have  a roast  child  for  supper,’  and  as  such 


MAkkY  LORkEQUER. 


£26 

luxuries  are  dear  in  this  country,  stay  another  week  they 
would  not,  whatever  the  consequences  might  be  ; the  manager 
reasoned,  begged,  implored,  and  threatened,  by  turns  ; all 
would  not  do,  go  they  were  determined,  and  all  the  unfortunate 
proprietor  could  accomplish  was,  to  make  a purchase  of 
their  properties  in  fur,  belts,  bows,  arrows,  and  feathers,  and  get 
them  away  quietly,  without  the  public  being  the  wiser.  The 
piece  was  too  profitable  a one  to  abandon,  so  he  looked 
about  anxiously,  to  supply  the  deficiency  in  his  corps  dr  a ■- 
matique.  For  several  days  nothing  presented  itself  to  his 
thoughts,  and  the  public  were  becoming  more  clamorous  for 
the  repetition  of  a drama  which  had  greatly  delighted  them. 
What  was  to  be  done  ? In  a mood  of  doubt  and  uncertainty 
the  wretched  manager  was  taking  his  accustomed  walk  upon 
the  light-house  pier,  while  a number  of  unfortunate  country 
fellows,  bare-legged  and  lanky,  with  hay  ropes  fastening 
their  old  gray  coats  around  them,  were  standing  beside  a 
packet,  about  to  take  their  departure  for  England  for  the 
harvest.  Their  uncouth  appearance,  their  wild  looks,  their 
violent  gestures,  and,  above  all,  their  strange  and  guttural 
language,  for  they  were  all  speaking  Irish,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  manager ; the  effect  to  his  professional  eye 
was  good,  the  thought  struck  him  at  once.  Here  were  the 
very  fellows  he  wanted.  It  was  scarcely  necessary  to  alter 
anything  about  them,  they  were  ready  made  to  his  hand, 
and  in  many  respects  better  savages  than  their  prototypes. 
Through  the  mediation  of  some  whisky,  the  appropriate  liquor 
in  all  treaties  of  this  nature,  a bargain  was  readily  struck, 
and  in  two  hours  more  4 these  forty  thieves  ’ were  rehearsing 
upon  the  classic  boards  of  our  theatre,  and  once  more  4 La 
Perouse/  in  all  the  glory  of  red  capital  letters,  shone  forth  in 
the  morning  advertisements.  The  run  of  the  piece  continued 
unabated ; the  Indians  were  the  rage ; nothing  else  was 
thought  or  spoken  of  in  Dublin,  and  already  the  benefit  of 
Ashewaballagh  Ho  was  announced,  who,  by  the  by,  was  a 
little  fellow  from  Martin’s  estate  in  Connemara,  and  one  of 
the  drollest  dogs  I ever  heard  of.  Well,  it  so  happened  that 
it  was  upon  one  of  their  nights  of  performing  that  I found 
myself,  with  Mr.  Burke,  a spectator  of  their  proceedings.  I 
had  fallen  into  an  easy  slumber,  when  a dreadful  row  in  the 
box  lobby  roused  me  from  my  dream,  and  the  loud  cry  of 
4 turn  him  out/  4 pitch  him  over/  4 beat  his  brains  out/  and 
other  humane  proposals  of  the  like  nature,  effectually  restored 


HARRY  LORREQVER . 


22t 


me  to  consciousness  ; I rushed  out  of  the  box  into  the  lobby, 
and  there,  to  my  astonishment,  in  the  midst  of  a considerable 
crowd,  beheld  my  friend  Mr.  Burke,  belaboring  the  box- 
keeper  with  all  his  might  with  a cotton  umbrella  of  rather 
unpleasant  proportions,  accompanying  each  blow  with  an 
exclamation  of  ‘Well,  are  they  Connaughtmen,  now,  you 
rascal,  eh  ? Are  they  all  west  of  Athlone  ; tell  me  that, 
now  ? I wonder  what’s  preventing  me  beating  the  soul  of 
ye.’  After  obtaining  a short  cessation  of  hostilities,  and 
restoring  poor  Sharkey  to  his  legs,  much  more  dead  than 
alive  from  pure  fright,  I learned,  at  last,  the  teierrima  causa 
belli . Mr.  Burke,  it  seems,  had  entered  into  conversation 
with  Sharkey,  the  box-keeper,  as  to  all  the  particulars  of  the 
theatre,  and  the  present  piece,  but  especially  as  to  the  real 
and  authentic  history  of  the  Indians  whose  language  he 
remarked  in  many  respects  to  resemble  Irish.  Poor  Sharkey, 
whose  benefit-night  was  approaching,  thought  he  might  secure 
a friend  for  life,  by  imparting  to  him  an  important  stage  secret ; 
and  when,  therefore,  pressed  rather  closely  as  to  the  4 savages’ 
whereabouts,’  resolved  to  try  a bold  stroke,  and  trust  his 
unknown  interrogator.  4 And  so  you  don’t  really  know  where 
they  come  from,  nor  can’tguess  ?’  4 Maybe,  Peru,’  said  Mr. 

Burke,  innocently.  4 Try  again,  sir,’  said  Sharkey,  with  a 
knowing  grin.  Ts  it  Behring  Straits?’  said  Mr.  Burke. 
4 What  do  you  think  of  Galway,  sir  ? ’ said  Sharkey,  with  a 
leer  intended  to  cement  a friendship  for  life.  The  words 
were  no  sooner  out  of  his  lips  than  Burke,  who  immediately 
took  them  as  a piece  of  direct  insolence  to  himself  and  his 
country,  felled  him  to  the  earth,  and  was  in  the  act  of  con- 
tinuing the  discipline  when  I arrived  on  the  field  of  battle.” 


. CHAPTER  XXII. 

A p I G H T AT  H O W T H. 

44  And  must  you  really  leave  us  so  soon  ? ” said  Tom,  as  we 
issued  forth  into  the  street ; 44  why,  I was  just  planning  a 
whole  week’s  adventure  for  you.  Town  is  so  full  of  all  kinds 
of  idle  people,  I think  I could  manage  to  make  your  time 
pass  pleasantly  enough.” 

44  Of  that,”  I replied,  44 1 have  little  doubt;  but  for  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2*2  2 

reasons  I have  just  mentioned,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
I should  not  lose  a moment;  and  after  arranging  a few 
things  here,  I shall  start  to-morrow  by  the  earliest  packet, 
and  hasten  up  to  London  at  once.” 

“ By  Jupiter,”  said  Tom,  “ how  lucky.  I just  remember 
something,  which  comes  admirably  apropos.  You  are  going 
to  Paris — is  it  not  so  ? ” 

“ Yes,  direct  to  Paris.” 

“ Nothing  could  be  better.  There  is  a particularly  nice 
person,  a great  friend  of  mine,  Mrs.  Bingham,  waiting  for 
several  days  in  hopes  of  a chaperon  to  take  care  of  herself 
^.nd  daughter — a lovely  girl,  only  nineteen,  you  wretch — to 
London,  en  route  to  the  Continent ; the  mamma  a delightful 
woman  and  a widow,  with  a very  satisfactory  jointure — you 
understand — but  the  daughter,  a regular  downright  beauty, 
and  a ward  in  chancery,  with  how  many  thousand  pounds 
I am  afraid  to  trust  myself  to  say.  You  must  know,  then, 

they  are  the  Binghams  of Upon  my  soul,  I forget  where ; 

but  highly  respectable.” 

“ I regret  I have  not  the  pleasure  of  their  acquaintance, 
and  the  more  because  I shall  not  be  able  to  make  it  now.” 

“ As  why  ? ” said  Tom,  gravely. 

Because,  in  the  first  place,  I am  so  confoundedly  pressed 
for  time  that  I could  not  possibly  delay  under  any  contin- 
gency that  might  arise ; and  your  fair  friends  are,  doubtless, 
not  so  eagerly  determined  on  travelling  night  and  day  till 
they  reach  Paris.  Secondly,  to  speak  candidly,  with  my 
present  hopes  and  fears  weighing  upon  my  mind,  I should 
not  be  the  most  agreeable  travelling  companion  to  two  ladies 
with  such  pretensions  as  you  speak  of ; and  thirdly ” 

“ Confound  your  thirdly.  I suppose  we  shall  have  six- 
teenthly,  like  a Presbyterian  minister’s  sermon,  if  I let  you 
go  on.  Why,  they’ll  not  delay  you  one  hour.  Mrs.  Bingham, 
man,  cares  as  little  for  the  road  as  yourself;  and  as  for  your 
petits  soins , I suppose  if  you  get  the  fair  ladies  through  the 
custom-house,  and  see  them  safe  in  a London  hotel,  it  is  all 
that  will  be  required  at  your  hand.” 

“ Notwithstanding  all  you  say,  I see  the  downright  impossi- 
bility of  my  taking  such  a charge  at  this  moment,  when  my 
own  affairs  require  all  the  little  attention  I can  bestow  ; and 
when,  were  I once  involved  with  your  fair  friends,  it  might 
be  completely  out  of  my  power  to  prosecute  my  own  plans.” 

As  I said  this,  we  reached  the  door  of  a handsome-looking 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


223 


house  in  Kildare  Street ; upon  which  Tom  left  my  arm,  and 
informing  me  that  he  desired  to  drop  a card,  knocked 
loudly. 

“ Is  Mrs.  Bingham  at  home  ?”  said  he,  as  the  servant 
opened  the  door. 

“No,  sir,  she’s  out  in  the  carriage.” 

44  Well,  you  see,  Harry,  your  ill-luck  befriends  you ; for  I 
was  resolved  on  presenting  you  to  my  friends  and  leaving 
the  rest  to  its  merits.” 

“ I can  safely  assure  you  that  I should  not  have  gone  up- 
stairs,” said  I.  *“  Little  as  I know  of  myself,  there  is  one 
point  of  my  character  I have  never  been  deceived  in,  the 
fatal  facility  by  which  every  new  incident  or  adventure  can 
turn  me  from  following  up  my  best  matured  and  longest 
digested  plans ; and  as  I feel  this  weakness,  and  cannot  cor- 
rect it,  the  next  best  thing  I can  do  is  to  fly  the  causes.” 

44  Upon  my  soul,”  said  Tom,  “ you  have  become  quite  a 
philosopher  since  we  met.  There  is  an  old  adage  which 
says,  4 No  king  ds  ever  thoroughly  gracious  if  he  has  not 
passed  a year  or  two  in  dethronement,’  so  I believe  your 
regular  lady-killer,  yourself  for  instance,  becomes  a very 
quiet  animal  for  being  occasionally  jilted.  But  now,  as  you 
have  some  commissions  to  do,  pray  get  done  with  them  as  fast 
as  possible,  and  let  us  meet  at  dinner.  Where  do  you  dine 
to-day  ? ” 

44  Why,  upon  that  point,  I am  at  your  service,  completely.” 

44  Well,  then,  I have  got  a plan  which  I think  will  suit 
you.  You  said  you  wished  to  go  by  Holyhead,  for  fear  of 
delay,  so,  we’ll  drive  down  at  six  o’clock  to  Skinner’s  and 
dine  with  him  on  board  the  packet  at  Howth.  Bring  your 
luggage  with  you,  and  it  will  save  you  a vast  deal  of  fuss  and 
trouble  in  the  morning.  ” 

Nothing  could  be  better  management  for  me  than  this,  so 
I accordingly  promised  acquiescence  ; and  having  appointed 
a rendezvous  for  six  o’clock,  bade  O’Flaherty  good-bye,  in- 
wardly rejoiced  that  my  plans  were  so  far  forwarded,  and 
that  I was  not  to  be  embarrassed  with  either  Mrs.  Bingham 
or  her  daughter,  for  whose  acquaintance  or  society  I had  no 
peculiar  ambition. 

My  commissions,  though  not  very  numerous,  occupied  the 
few  hours  which  remained,  and  it  was  already  a few  minutes 
past  six  o’clock  when  I took  my  stand  under  the  piazza  of 
the  post-oflice  to  wait  for  O’Flaherty.  I had  not  long  to  do 


ttARR  Y LORREQlJER. 


224 

so,  for  immediately  after  I reached  the  spot,  he  arrived  in  an 
open  barouche  and  four  posters,  with  three  other  young  men 
to  whom  he  severally  introduced  me,  but  whose  names  I 
have  totally  forgotten  ; I only  remember  that  two  of  the 
party  were  military  men  then  quartered  in  town. 

When  I had  taken  my  seat,  I could  not  help  whispering  to 
Tom,  that  although  his  friend  Skinner  might  be  “ bon  ” for  a 
visitation  for  two  at  dinner,  yet  as  we  were  now  so  strong  a 
party,  it  might  be  as  well  to  dine  at  the  hotel. 

“ Oh,”  said  he,  “ I have  arranged  all  that ; I have  sent 
him  a special  messenger  two  hours  since,  and  so  make  your 
mind  easy — we  shall  not  be  disappointed,  nor  be  short- 
taken.” 

Our  drive,  although  a long  one,  passed  quickly  over,  and 
before  we  had  reached  our  destination,  I had  become 
tolerably  intimate  with  all  the  party,  who  were  evidently 
picked  men,  selected  by  O’Flaherty  for  a pleasant  evening. 

We  drove  along  the  pier  to  the  wharf,  where  the  steamer 
lay,  and  were  received  at  once  by  Tom’s  friend  with  all  the 
warm  welcome  and  hospitality  of  a sailor,  united  with  the 
address  and  polish  of  a very  finished  gentleman.  As  we 
descended  the  companion-ladder  to  the  cabin,  my  mind  be- 
came speedily  divested  of  any  fears  I might  have  indulged 
in  as  to  the  want  of  preparation  of  our  entertainer.  The 
table  was  covered  with  all  the  appanage  of  handsome  plate 
and  cut  glass,  while  the  side-tables  glittered  with  a magnifi- 
cent dessert,  and  two  large  wine-coolers  presented  an  array 
of  champagne  necks  shining  with  their  leaden  cravats  that 
would  have  tempted  an  anchorite. 

I remember  very  little  else  of  that  evening  than  the  coup 
d'ceil  I have  mentioned  ; besides,  were  my  memory  more 
retentive,  I might  scruple  to  trespass  further  on  my  reader’s 
patience  by  the  detail  of  those  pleasures,  which,  like  love- 
letters,  however  agreeable  to  the  parties  immediately  con- 
cerned*  are  very  unedifying  to  all  others.  I do  remember, 
certainly,  that  good  stories  and  capital  songs  succeeded  each 
other  with  a rapidity  only  to  be  equalled  by  the  popping  of 
corks  ; and  have  also  a very  vague  and  indistinct  recollec- 
tion of  a dance  round  the  table,  evidently  to  finish  a chorus, 
but  which,  it  appears,  finished  me,  too,  for  I saw  no  more 
that  night. 

How  many  men  have  commemorated  the  waking  sensation 
of  their  fellow-men,  after  a night’s  debauch  ; yet  at  the  same 


HARRY  LORREQUFJL 


22$ 


time,  I am  not  aware  of  any  one  having  perfectly  conveyed 
even  a passing  likeness  to  the  mingled  throng  of  sensations 
which  crowd  one’s  brain  on  such  an  occasion.  The  doubt 
of  what  has  passed,  by  degrees  yielding  to  the  half-conscious- 
ness of  the  truth,  the  feeling  of  shame,  inseparable  except  to 
the  habitually  hard-goer,  for  the  events  thus  dimly  pictured, 
the  racking  headache  and  intense  thirst,  with  the  horror  of 
the  potation  recently  indulged  in  ; the  recurring  sense  of  the 
fun  or  drollery  of  a story  or  an  incident  which  provokes  us 
again  to  laugh  despite  the  jarring  of  our  brain  from  the  shak- 
ing. All  this  and  more  most  men  have  felt,  and  happy  are 
they  when  their  waking  thoughts  are  limited  to  such,  at  such 
times  as  these — the  matter  becomes  considerably  worse,  when 
the  following  morning  calls  for  some  considerable  exertion, 
for  which,  even  in  your  best  and  calmest  moments,  you  only 
find  yourself  equal. 

It  is  truly  unpleasant,  on  rubbing  your  eyes  and  opening 
your  ears,  to  discover  that  the  great  bell  is  ringing  the  half- 
hour  before  your  quarterly  examination  at  college,  while 
Locke,  Lloyd,  and  Lucian  are  dancing  a reel  through  your 
brain,  little  short  of  madness  ; scarcely  less  agreeable  is  it 
to  learn  that  your  friend  Captain  Wildfire  is  at  the  door  in 
his  cab,  to  accompany  you  to  the  Phoenix,  to  stand  within 
twelve  paces  of  a cool  gentleman  who  has  been  sitting  with 
his  arm  in  eau  de  Cologne  for  the  last  half-hour  that  he  may 
pick  you  out  “ arti^t-like.”  There  are,  besides  these,  innu- 
merable situations  in  which  our  preparations  of  the  night 
would  appear  as  none  of  the  wisest ; but  I prefer  going  at 
once  to  my  own,  which,  although  considerably  inferior  in 
difficulty,  was  not  without  its  own  “ desagrementsR 

When  I awoke,  therefore,  on  board  the  “ Firefly,”  the 
morning  after  our  dinner-party,  I was  perfectly  unable,  by 
any  mental  process  within  my  reach,  to  discover  where  I was. 
On  shipboard  I felt  I must  be — the  narrow  berth — the 
gilded  and  panelled  cabin  which  met  my  eye,  through  my 
half-open  curtains,  and  that  peculiar  swelling  motion  insep- 
arable from  a vessel  in  the  water,  all  satisfied  me  of  this  fact. 
I looked  about  me,  but  could  see  no  one  to  give  me  the  least 
idea  of  my  position.  Could  it  be  that  we  were  on  our  way 
out  to  Corfu,  and  that  I had  been  ill  for  some  time  past  ? 

But  this  cabin  had  little  resemblance  to  a transport ; per- 
haps it  might  be  a frigate.  I knew  not.  Then,  again,  were 
we  sailing  or  at  anchor  ? for  the  ship  was  nearly  motionless. 


226 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


At  this  instant  a tremendous  noise  like  thunder  crashed 
through  my  head,  and  for  a moment  I expected  we  had  ex- 
ploded, and  would  all  be  blown  up  ; but  an  instant  after  I 
discovered  it  must  be  the  escape  of  the  steam,  and  that  I 
was  on  board  a packet  ship.  Here,  then,  was  some  clew  to 
my  situation,  and  one  which  would  probably  have  elicited 
all  in  due  season  ; but  just  at  this  moment  a voice  on  deck 
saved  me  from  any  further  calculations.  Two  persons  were 
conversing  whose  voices  were  not  altogether  unknown  to  me, 
but  why  I knew  not. 

“ Then,  captain,  I suppose  you  consider  this  an  excellent 
passage  ? ” 

“ Yes,  of  course  I do,”  replied  the  captain  ; “ it’s  only  five 
hours  since  we  left  Howth,  and  now  you  see  we  are  nearly 
in.  > If  we  have  the  run  of  the  tide,  we  shall  reach  the  head 
before  twelve  o’clock.” 

“ Ha  ! ha  ! ” said  I to  myself,  “ now  I begin  to  learn  some- 
thing. So  we  have  crossed  the  channel  while  I was  sleeping 
— not  the  least  agreeable  thing  for  a man  to  hear  who  suf- 
fers martyrdom  from  sea-sickness.  But  let  me  listen  again.” 

“ And  that  large  mountain  there — is  that  Snowden  ? ” 

“ No.  You  cannot  see  Snowden  ; there  is  too  much  mist 
about  it ; that  mountain  is  Capel  Craig  ; and  there  that  bold 
bluff  to  the  eastward,  that  is  Penmen  Mawr.” 

“ Come,  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost,”  thought  I ; so  spring- 
ing out  of  my  berth  accoutred  as  I was,  in  merely  trousers 
and  slippers,  with  a red  handkerchief  fastened  night-cap 
fashion  round  my  head,  I took  my  way  through  the  cabin. 

My  first  thought  on  getting  upon  my  legs  was  how  tremen- 
dously the  vessel  pitched,  which  I had  not  remarked  while 
in  my  berth,  but  now  I could  scarcely  keep  myself  from  fall- 
ing at  every  step.  I was  just  about  to  call  the  steward, 
when  I again  heard  the  voices  on  deck. 

“You  have  but  few  passengers  this  trip.” 

“ I think  only  yourself  and  a Captain  Lorrequer,”  replied 
the  captain,  “ who,  by  the  by,  is  losing  all  this  fine  coast, 
which  is  certainly  a great  pity.” 

“ He  shall  not  do  so  much  longer,”  thought  I ; “ for  as  I 
find  that  there  are  no  other  passengers,  I’ll  make  my  toilet 
on  deck,  and  enjoy  the  view  besides.”  With  this  determina- 
tion I ascended  slowly  and  cautiously  the  companion  ladder, 
and  stepped  out  upon  the  deck  ; but  scarcely  had  I done  so, 
when  a roar  of  the  loudest  laughter  made  me  turn  my  head 


HARRY  L ORRA\J UER* 


227 


toward  the  poop,  and  there,  to  my  horror  of  horrors,  I be- 
held Tom  O’Flaherty  seated  between  two  ladies,  whose  most 
vociferous  mirth  I soon  perceived  was  elicited  at  my  ex- 
pense. 

All  the  party  of  the  preceding  night  were  also  there,  and 
as  I turned  from  their  grinning  faces  to  the  land,  I saw,  to 
my  shame  and  confusion,  that  we  were  still  lying  beside  the 
pier  at  Howth ; while  the  band-boxes,  trunks,  and  imperials 
of  new  arrivals  were  incessantly  pouring  in,  as  travelling  car* 
riages  kept  driving  up  to  the  place  of  embarkation.  I stood 
perfectly  astounded  and  bewildered — shame  for  my  ridicu- 
lous costume  would  have  made  me  fly  at  any  other  time — • 
but  there  I remained  to  be  laughed  at  patiently,  while  that 
villain  O’ Flaherty,  leading  me  passively  forward,  introduced 
me  to  his  friends — “ Mrs.  Bingham,  Mr.  Lorrequer;  Mr. 
Lorrequer,  Miss  Bingham.  Don’t  be  prepossessed  against 
him,  ladies,  for  when  not  in  love,  and  properly  dressed,  he 
is  a marvellously  well-looking  young  gentleman  ; and 
as- ” 

What  the  remainder  of  the  sentence  might  be  I knew  not, 
for  I rushed  down  into  the  cabin,  and  locking  the  door, 
never  opened  it  until  I could  perceive  from  the  stern  win- 
dows that  we  were  really  off  on  our  way  to  England,  and  rec- 
ognized once  more  the  laughing  face  of  O’Flaherty,  who,  as 
he  waved  his  hat  to  his  friends  from  the  pier,  reminded  them 
that  “ they  were  under  the  care  and  protection  of  his  friend 
Lorrequer,  who,  he  trusted,  would  condescend  to  increase 
his  wearing  apparel  under  the  circumstances.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  JOURNEY. 

When  I did  at  last  venture  upon  deck,  it  was  with  a cos- 
tume studiously  accurate,  and  as  much  of  manner  as  I could 
possibly  muster,  to  endeavor  at  once  to  erase  the  unfortunate 
impression  of  my  first  appearance ; this,  however,  was  not 
destined  to  be  a perfectly  successful  manoeuvre,  and  I was 
obliged  after  a few  minutes  to  join  the  laugh,  which  I found 
could  not  be  repressed,  at  my.  expense.  One  good  result 
certainly  followed  from  all  this,  I became  almost  immedi- 


22 8 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


ately  on  intimate  terms  with  Mrs.  Bingham  and  her  daughter, 
and  much  of  the  awkwardness  in  my  position  as  their  chap- 
eron which  bon-gre  mal-gre  I was  destined  to  be,  was  at  once 
got  over.  Mrs.  Bingham  herself  was  of  that  “ genre  ” of 
widow,  which  comes  under  the  “fat,  fair,  and  forty”  category, 
with  a never-ceasing  flow  of  high,  almost  boisterous,  spirits 
— an  excellent  temper,  good  health — and  a • well-stocked 
purse.  Life  to  her  was  like  a game  of  her  favorite  “ specula- 
tion.” When  as  she  believed  the  “company  honest,”  and 
knew  her  cards  trumps,  Ihe  was  tolerably  easy  for  the  result. 
She  liked  Kingstown — she  liked  short  whist — she  liked  the 
military — she  liked  the  “junior  bar,”  of  which  she  knew  a 
good  number — she  had  a well-furnished  house  in  Kildare 
Street — and  a well-cushioned  pew  in  St.  Anne’s ; she  was  a 
favorite  at  the  Castle — and  Dr.  Labatt  “ knew  her  constitu- 
tion.” Why,  with  all  these  advantages,  she  should  ever 
have  thought  of  leaving  the  “happy  valley”  of  her  native 
city,  it  was  somewhat  hard  to  guess.  W as  it  that  thoughts 
of  matrimony,  which  the  Continent  held  out  more  prospect 
for,  had  invaded  the  fair  widow’s  heart?  Was  it  that  the 
altered  condition  to  which  politics  had  greatly  reduced  Dub- 
lin had  effected  this  change  of  opinion  ? or  was  it  like  that 
indescribable  longing  for  the  unknown  something,  which  we 
read  of  in  the  pathetic  history  of  the  fair  lady  celebrated,  I 
believe,  by  Petrarch,  but  I quote  from  memory  : 

“ Mrs.  Gill  is  very  ill, 

Nothing  can  improve  her, 

But  to  see  the  Tuiilerie, 

And  waddle  through  the  Louvre.” 

None  of  these,  I believe,  however  good  and  valid  reasons 
in  themselves,  were  the  moving  powers  upon  the  present 
occasion ; the  all-sufficient  one  being  that  Mrs.  Bingham  had 
a daughter.  Now  Miss  Bingham  was  Dublin,  too — but  Dub- 
lin of  a later  edition — and  a finer,  more  hot-pressed  copy 
than  her  mamma.  She  had  been  educated  at  Mrs.  Some- 
body’s seminary,  in  Mountjoy  Square — had  been  taught  to 
dance  by  Montagu — and  had  learned  French  from  a Swiss 
governess — with  a number  of  similar  advantages — a-  very 
pretty  figure — dark  eyes — long  eye-lashes  and  a dimple — 
and  last,  but  of  course  least,  the  deserved  reputation  of  a 
large  fortune.  She  had  made  a most  successful  debut  in  the 
Dublin  wprld,  where  she  was  much  admired  and  flattered. 


HARRY  lorrequer. 


229 


and  which  soon  suggested  to  her  quick  mind,  as  it  has  often 
done  in  similar  cases  to  a young  provincial  debutante,  not  to 
waste  her  “ fraicheur  ” upon  the  minor  theatres,  but  at  once 
to  appear  upon  the  “great  boards;”  so  far  evidencing  a 
higher  flight  of  imagination  and  enterprise  than  is  usually 
found  among  the  clique  of  her  early  associates,  who  may  be 
characterized  as  that  school  of  young  ladies  who  like  the 
“ Corsair”  and  Dunleary,  and  say,  “ Ah,  don’t ! ” 

She  possessed  much  more  common  sense  than  her  mamma, 
and  promised,  under  proper  advantages,  to  become  speedily 
quite  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  world  and  its  habitudes. 
In  the  meanwhile,  I perceived  that  she  ran  a very  consider- 
able risk  of  being  carried  off  by  some  mustached  Pole,  with 
a name  like  a sneeze,  who  might  pretend  to  enjoy  the  entree 
into  the  fashionable  circles  of.  the  Continent. 

Very  little  study  of  my  two  fair  friends  enabled  me  to  see 
thus  much;  and  very  little  “ usage  ” sufficed  to  render  me 
speedily  intimate  with  both  ; the  easy  bonhomie  of  the  mamma, 
who  had  a very  methodistical  appreciation  of  what  the  “ con- 
nection” call  “creature  comforts,”  amused  me  much,  and 
opened  one  ready  path  to  her  good  graces  by  the  opportunity 
afforded  of  getting  up  a luncheon  of  veal  cutlets  and  London 
porter,  of  which  I partook,  not  a little  to  the  loss  of  the  fair 
daughter’s  esteem. 

While,  therefore,  I made  the  tour  of  the  steward’s  cell  in 
search  of  Harvey’s  sauce,  I brushed  up  my  memory  of  the 
Corsair  and  Childe  Harold,  and  alternately  discussed  Stilton 
and  Southey,  Lover  and  lobsters,  Haynes  Bayley  and  ham. 

The  day  happened  to  be  particularly  calm  and  delightful, 
so  that  we  never  left  the  deck;  and  the  six  hours  which 
brought  us  from  land  to  land  quickly  passed  over  in  this 
manner;  and  ere  we  reached  “the  Head”  I had  become  the 
wrarm  friend  and  legal  adviser  of  the  mother ; and  with  the 
daughter  I was  installed  as  chief  confidant  of  all  her  griefs 
and  sorrows,  both  of  which  appointments  cost  me  a solemn 
promise  to  take  care  of  them  till  their  arrival  in  Paris,  where 
they  had  many  friends  and  acquaintances  awaiting  them. 
Here,  then,  as  usual,  was  the  invincible  facility  with  which 
I gave  myself  up  to  any  one  who  took  the  trouble  to  influ- 
ence me.  One  thing,  nevertheless,  I was  determined  on — to 
let  no  circumstance  defer  my  arrival  at  Paris  a day  later  than 
was  possible  ; therefore,  though  my  office  as  chaperon  might 
diminish  my  comforts  en  route , it  should  not  interfere  with 


230 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


the  object  before  me.  Had  my  mind  not  been  so  completely 
engaged  with  my  own  immediate  prospects,  when  hope,  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly  revived,  had  become  so  tinged  with 
fears  and  doubts  as  to  be  almost  torture,  I must  have  been 
much  amused  with  my  present  position,  as  I found  myself 
seated  with  my  two  friends,  rolling  along  through  Wales  in 
their  comfortable  travelling  carriage — giving  all  the  orders  at 
the  different  hotels — seeing  after  the  luggage — and  acting  en 
maitre  in  every  respect. 

The  good  widow  enjoyed  particularly  the  difficulty  which 
my  precise  position,  with  regard  to  her  and  her  daughter, 
threw  the  different  innkeepers  on  the  road  into,  sometimes 
supposing  me  to  be  her  husband,  sometimes  her  son,  and 
once  her  son-in-law  ; which  very  alarming  conjecture  brought 
a crimson  tinge  to  the  fair  daughter’s  cheek,  an  expression 
which,  in  my  ignorance,  I thought  looked  very  like  an  in- 
clination to  faint  in  my  arms. 

At  length  we  reached  London,  and  having  been  there  safely 
installed  at  “ Mivart’s,”  I sallied  forth  to  present  my  letter  to 
the  Horse  Guards,  and  obtain  our  passport  for  the  Continent. 

“Number  nine  Poland  Street,  sir,”  said  the  waiter,  as  I 
inquired  the  address  of  the  French  consul.  Having  discov- 
ered that  my  interview  with  the  commander-in-chief  was  ap- 
pointed for  four  o’clock,  I determined  to  lose  no  time,  but 
make  every  possible  arrangement  for  leaving  London  in  the 
morning. 

A cab  quietly  conveyed  me  to  the  door  of  the  consul,  around 
which  stood  several  other  vehicles,  of  every  shape  and  fash- 
ion, while  in  the  doorway  were  to  be  seen  numbers  of  people, 
thronging  and  pressing,  like  the  Opera  pit  on  a full  night. 
Into  the  midst  of  this  assemblage  I soon  thrust  myself,  and, 
borne  upon  the  current,  at  length  reached  a small  back  par- 
lor, filled  also  with  people ; a door  opening  into  another 
small  room  in  the  front  showed  a similar  mob  there,  with  the 
addition  of  a small  elderly  man,  in  a bag  wig  and  spectacles, 
very  much  begrimed  with  snuff,  and  speaking  in  a very  chol- 
eric tone  to  the  various  applicants  for  passports,  who,  totally 
ignorant  of  French,  insisted  upon  interlarding  their  demands 
with  an  occasional  stray  phrase,  making  a kind  of  tessellated 
pavement  of  tongues,  which  would  have  shamed  Babel. 
Nearest  to  the  table  at  which  the  functionary  sat  stood  a 
mustached  gentleman,  in  a blue  frock  and  white  trousers,  a 
white  hat  jauntily  set  upon  one  side  of  his  head,  and  prim- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


231 


rose  gloves.  He  cast  a momentary  glance  of  a very  under- 
valuing import  upon  the  crowd  around  him,  and  then,  turn- 
ing to  the  consul,  said,  in  a very  soprano  tone  : 

“ Passport,  monsieur  ! ” 

“Que  voulez-vous  que  je  fasse,”  replied  the  old  French- 
man, gruffly. 

Je  suis  j’ai — that  is,  donnez  moi  passport.” 

“ Where  do  you  go  ? ” replied  the  consul. 

“ Calai.” 

“ Comment  diable,  speak  Inglis,  and  I understand  you  as 
besser.  Y our  name  ? ” 

“ Lorraine  Snaggs,  gentilhomme.” 

“ What  age  have  you  ? — how  old  ? 99 

“ Twenty-two.” 

“C’est  9a,”  said  the  old  consul,  flingingthe  passport  across 
the  table,  with  the  air  of  a man  who  thoroughly  comprehended 
the  applicant’s  pretension  to  the  designation  of  gentilhomme 
Anglais. 

As  I followed  the  worthy  representative  of  Seven  Dials  with 
my  eye,  another  person  had  neared  the  table.  She  was  a 
rather  pretty  young  woman,  with  blue  eyes,  and  brown  hair 
braided  quietly  on  her  forehead,  and  wearing  a plain  close 
bonnet  of  a very  coquettish  appearance. 

“Will  you  be  seated,  ma’mselle  ?”  said  the  polite  old  French- 
man, who  had  hitherto  been  more  like  a bear  than  a human 
being,  “ Ou  allez-vous  done  ; where  to,  ma  chbre  ? ” 

“ To  Paris,  sir.” 

“ By  Calais  ? ” 

“ No,  sir,  by  Boulogne ” 

“ C’est  bon  ; quel  age  avez-vous  ? What  old,  ma  belle  ? ” 

“ Nineteen,  sir,  in  June.” 

“ And  are  you  alone,'  quite,  eh  ? ” 

“ No,  sir,  my  little  girl.” 

“ Ah  ! your  leetle  girl — c’est  fort  bien — je  m’apercois  ; and 
your  name  ? ” 

“ Fanny  Linwood,  sir.” 

“ C’est  fini,  ma  chere,  Mademoiselle  Fanni  Linwood,”  said 
the  old  man  as  he  wrote  down  the  name. 

“ Oh,  sir,  I beg  your  pardon,  but  you  have  put  me  down 
Mademoiselle ; and — and — you  see,  sir,  I have  my  little  girl.” 

“ A c’est  egal,  ma’mselle,  they  don’t  mind  these  things  in 
France — au  plaisir  de  vous  voir.  Adieu.” 

“ They  don’t  mind  these  things  in  France,”  said  1 to  my- 


HARRY  LORRRQUER . 


*32 

self,  repeating  the  old  consul's  phrase,  which  I could  not  help 
feeling  as  a whole  chapter  on  his  nation. 

My  business  was  soon  settled,  for  I spoke  nothing  but  Eng- 
lish— very  little  knowledge  of  the  world  teaching  me  that  when 
we  have  any  favor,  however  slight,  to  ask,  it  is  always  good 
policy  to  make  the  amende  by  gratifying  the  amour  propre  of 
thegranter — if,  happily,  there  be  an  opportunity  for  so  doing. 

When  I returned  to  Mivart's,  I found  a written  answer  to 
my  letter  of  the  morning,  stating  that  his  lordship  of  the 
Horse  Guards  was  leaving  town  that  afternoon,  but  would 
not  delay  my  departure  for  the  Continent  to  visit  which  a 
four  months'  leave  was  granted  me,  with  a recommendation 
to  study  at  Weimar. 

The  next  day  brought  us  to  Dover,  in  time  to  stroll  about 
the  cliffs,  during  the  evening,  when  I again  talked  sentiment 
with  the  daughter  till  very  late.  The  madame  herself  was 
too  tired  to  come  out,  so  that  we  had  our  walk  quite  alone. 
It  is  strange  enough  how  quickly  this  travelling  together  has 
shaken  us  into  intimacy.  Isabella  says  she  feels  as  if  I were 
her  brother  ; and  I begin  to  think  myself  she  is  not  exactly 
like  a sister.  She  has  a marvellously  pretty  foot  and  ankle. 

The  climbing  of  cliffs  is  a very  dangerous  pastime.  How 
true  the  French  adage — “ C’est  plus  facile  de  glisser  sur  le 
gazon  que  sur  la  glace.”  But  still  nothing  can  come  of  it ; 
for  if  Lady  Jane  be  not  false,  I must  consider  myself  an  en- 
gaged man. 

“Well,  but  I hope,"  said  I,  rousing  myself  from  a reverie 
of  some  minutes,  and  inadvertently  pressing  the  arm  which 
leaned  upon  me,  “your  mamma  will  not  be  alarmed  at  our 
long  absence  ? ” 

“ Oh  not  in  the  least,  for  she  knows  I’m  with  you.” 

And  here  I felt  a return  of  the  pressure — perhaps  also  in- 
advertently given,  but  which,  whether  or  not,  effectually  set 
all  my  reasonings  and  calculations  astray  ; and  we  returned  to 
the  hotel,  silent  on  both  sides. 

The  appearance  of  la  chere  mamma,  beside  the  hissing 
tea-urn,  brought  us  both  back  to  ourselves,  and,  after  an  hour’s 
chatting,  we  wished  good-night,  to  start  on  the  morrow  for 
the  Continent. 


MARRY  LORREQUKR. 


233 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CALAIS. 

It  was  upon  a lovely  evening  in  autumn,  as  the  Dover 
steamboat  rounded  the  wooden  pier  at  Calais,  amid  a fleet 
of  small  boats  filled  with  eager  and  anxious  faces,  soliciting, 
in  every  species  of  bad  English  and  “ patois  ” French,  the 
attention  and  patronage  of  the  passengers. 

“ Hotel  de  Bain,  milor.” 

“ Hotel  d’Angleterre,”  said  another,  in  a voice  of  the 
most  imposing  superiority.  “ C’est  superbe — pretty  well.” 

“ Hotel  du  Nord,  votre  Excellence — remise  de  poste  and 
‘delays  9 (quere  relays)  at  all  hours.” 

“ Commissionnaire,  mi  ladi,”  sung  out  a small  shrill  treble 
from  the  midst  of  a crowded  cock-boat,  nearly  swamped 
beneath  our  paddle-wheel. 

What  a scene  of  bustle,  confusion,  and  excitement  does 
the  deck  of  a steamer  present  upon  such  an  occasion.  Every 
one  is  running  hither  or  thither.  “ Sauve  qui  peut  ” is  now 
the  watchword  ; and  friendships,  that  promised  a life-long 
endurance  only  half  an  hour  ago,  find  here  a speedy  disso- 
lution. The  lady  who  slept  all  night  upon  deck,  enveloped 
in  the  folds  of  your  Astracan  cloak,  scarcely  deigns  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  you,  as  she  adjusts  her  ringlets  before  the 
looking-glass  over  the  stove  in  the  cabin.  The  polite  gentle- 
man, that  would  have  flown  for  a reticule  or  a smelling-bottle 
upon  the  high  seas,  won’t  leave  his  luggage  in  the  harbor ; 
and  the  gallantry  and  devotion  that  stood  the  test  of  half  a 
gale  of  wind  and  a wet  jacket,  is  not  proof  when  the  safety  of 
a carpet-bag  or  the  security  of  a “ Mackintosh  ” is  concerned. 

And  thus  here,  as  elsewhere,  is  prosperity  the  touchstone 
of  goodHeeling.  All  the  various  disguises  which  have  been 
assumed  per  viaggio , are  here  immediately  abandoned,  and, 
stripped  of  the  travelling  costume  of  urbanity  and  courtesy, 
which  they  put  on  for  the  voyage,  they  stand  forth  in  all  the 
unblushing  front  of  selfishness  and  self-interest. 

Sorae  tender  scenes  yet  find  their  place  amid  the  debris  of 
this  chaotic  state.  Here  may  be  seen  a careful'  mother  a<J- 


234 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


justing  innumerable  shawls  and  handkerchiefs  round  the 
throat  of  a sea-green  young  lady  with  a cough  ; her  maid  is 
at  the  same  instant  taking  a tender  farewell  of  the  steward  in 
the  after-cabin. 

Here  is  a very  red-faced  and  hot  individual,  with  punch- 
colored  breeches  and  gaiters,  disputing  “one  brandy  too 
much  ” in  his  bill,  and  vowing  that  the  company  shall  hear 
of  it  when  he  returns  to  England.  There,  a tall,  elderly 
woman,  with  a Scotch-gray  eye,  and  a sharp  cheek-bone,  is 
depositing  within  her  muff  various  seizable  articles,  that 
until  now  had  been  lying  quietly  in  her  trunk.  Yonder,  that 
raw-looking  young  gentleman,  with  the  crumpled  frock-coat, 
and  loose  cravat,  and  sea-sick  visage,  is  asking  every  one, 
“if  they  think  he  may  land  without  a passport.7’  You 
scarcely  recognize  him  for  the  cigar-smoking  dandy  of  yester- 
day that  talked  as  if  he  had  lived  half  his  life  on  the  Con- 
tinent. While  there,  a rather  pretty  girl  is  looking  intently  at 
some  object  in  the  blue  water,  beside  the  rudder  post.  You 
are  surprised  you  cannot  make  it  out ; but  then,  she  has  the 
advantage  of  you,  for  the  tall,  well-looking  man,  with  the 
knowing  whiskers,  is  evidently  whispering  something  into 
her  ear. 

“ Steward,  this  is  not  my  trunk — mine  was  a leather 77 

“ All  the  4 leathers  7 are  gone  in  the  first  boat,  sir.77 

44  Most  scandalous  way  of  doing  business.77 

44  Trouble  you  for  two-and-sixpence,  sir.77  j 

44  There’s  Matilda  coughing  again,77  says  a thin,  shrewish 
woman,  with  a kind  of  triumphant  scowl  at  her  better  half ; 
44  but  you  would  have  her  wear  that  thin  shawl ! 77 

44  Whatever  may  be  the  fault  of  the  shawl,  I fancy  no  one 
will  reproach  her  ankles  for  thinness,”  murmurs  a young 
Guardsman,  as  he  peeps  up  the  companion-ladder. 

Amid  all  the  Babel  of  tongues  and  uproar  of  voices,  the 
thorough  bass  of  the  escape  steam  keeps  up  its  infernal 
thunders,  till  the  very  brain  reels,  and,  sick  as  you  have 
been  of  the  voyage,  you  half  wish  yourself  once  more  at 
sea,  if  only  to  have  a moment  of  peace  and  tranquillity. 

Numbers  now  throng  the  deck  who  have  never  made  their 
appearance  before.  Pale,  jaundiced,  and  crumpled,  they 
have  all  the  sea-sick  look  and  haggard  cheek  of  the  real 
martyr — all  except  one,  a stout,  swarthy,  brown-visaged  man 
of  about  forty,  with  a frame  of  iron,  and  a voice  like  the 
fourth  string  of  a violoncello.  You  wonder  why  he  should 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


235 


have  taken  to  his  bed  : learn,  then,  that  he  is  his  majesty’s 
courier  from  the  foreign  office,  going  with  dispatches  to 
Constantinople ; and  that,  as  he  is  not  destined  to  lie 
down  in  a bed  for  the  next  fourteen  days,  he  is  glad  even  of 
the  narrow  resemblance  to  one  he  finds  in  the  berth  of  a 
steamboat.  At  length  you  are  on  shore,  and  marched  off  in 
a long  string,  like  a gang  of  convicts  to  the  Bureau  de 
l’octroi,  and  here  is  begun  an  examination  of  the  luggage, 
which  promises,  from  its  minuteness,  to  last  for  the  three 
months  you  destined  to  spend  in  Switzerland.  At  the  end 
of  an  hour  you  discovered  that  the  commission naire 

will  transact  all  this  affair  for  a few  francs  ; and,  after  a 
tiresome  wait  in  a filthy  room,  jostled,  elbowed,  and  trampled 
upon,  by  boors  with  sabots,  you  adjourn  to  your  inn,  and 
begin  to  feel  that  you  are  not  in  England. 

Our  little  party  had  but  few  of  the  miseries  here  recounted 
to  contend  with.  My  “ savoir  faire,”  with  all  modesty  be  it 
spoken,  has.  been  long  schooled  in  the  art  and  practice  of  trav- 
elling ; and  while  our  less  experienced  fellow-travellers  were 
deep  in  the  novel  mysteries  of  cotton  stockings  and  petticoats, 
most  ostentatiously  displayed  upon  every  table  of  the  Bureau, 
we  were  comfortably  seated  in  the  handsome  saloon  of  the 
Hotel  du  Nord,  looking  out  upon  a pretty  grass  plot  sur- 
rounded with  orange  trees,  and  displaying  in  the  middle  a 
jet  d'eau  about  the  size  of  a walking-stick. 

“ Now,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  Mrs.  Bingham,  as  she  seated 
herself  by  the  open  window,  “ never . forget  how  totally  de- 
pendent we  are  upon  your  kind  offices.  Isabella  has  dis- 
covered already  that  the  French  of  Mount  joy  Square,  however 
intelligible  in  that  neighborhood,  and  even  as  far  as  Mount 
Street,  is  Coptic  and  Sanscrit  here ; and  as  for  myself,  I 
intend  to  affect  deaf  and  dumbness  till  I reach  Paris,  where 
I hear  every  one  can  speak  English  a little.” 

“ Now,  then,  to  begin  my  functions,”  said  I,  as  I rung  for 
the  waiter,  and  ran  over  in  my  mind  rapidly  how  many 
invaluable  hints  for  my  new  position  my  present  trip  might 
afford  me,  “ always  provided  ” (as  the  lawyers  say)  that 
Lady  Jane  Callonby  might  feel  herself  tempted  to  become 

my  travelling  companion,  in  which  case But,  confound 

it,  how  I am  castle-building  again.  Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham is  looking  as  hungry  and  famished  as  though  she  would 
eat  the  waiter.  “ Ha  ! this  is  the  6 carte.’  ” 

“ Allons  faire  petit  souper,” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


236 

“ Cotelettes  d’agneau.” 

“ Mayonnaise  d’homard.” 

“Perdreaux  rouges  aux  truffes — mark  that,  aux  truffes.” 

“ Gelee  au  maraschin.” 

“ And  the  wine,  sir,”  said  the  waiter,  with  a look  of  approval 
at  my  selection,  “ Champagne — no  other  wine,  sir  ? ” 

“ No,”  said  I,  “ Champagne  only ; frappe  de  glace,  of 
course,”  I added,  and  the  waiter  departed  with  a bow  that 
would  haye  graced  St.  James’s. 

As  long  as  our  immaterial  and  better  part  shall  be  doomed 
to  keep  company  with  its  fleshy  tabernacle,  with  all  its  attend- 
ant miseries  of  gout  and  indigestion,  how  much  of  our  en- 
joyment in  this  world  is  dependent  upon  the  mere  accessory 
circumstances  by  which  the  business  of  life  is  carried  on  and 
maintained,  and  to  despise  which  is  neither  good  policy  nor 
sound  philosophy.  In  this  conclusion  a somewhat  long 
experience  of  the  life  of  a traveller  has  fully  established  me. 
And  nowhere  does  it  press  more  forcibly  upon  the  mind  than 
when  first  arrived  in  a continental  inn,  after  leaving  the 
best  hotels  in  England  still  fresh  in  your  memory.  I do  not 
for  a moment  dispute  the  very  great  superiority  in  comfort 
of  the  latter,  by  which  I would  be  understood  to  mean  all 
those  resemblances  to  one’s  own  home  which  an  English 
hotel  so  eminently  possesses,  and  every  other  one  so  mark- 
edly wants,  but  I mean  that  in  contrivances  to  elevate  the 
spirit,  cheer  the  jaded  and  tired  wayfarer  by  objects  which, 
however  they  may  appeal  to  the  mere  senses,  seem,  at  least, 
but  little  sensual,  give  me  a foreign  inn ; let  me  have  a large 
spacious  saloon,  with  its  lofty  walls  and  its  airy,  large  paned 
windows  (I  shall  not  object  if  the  cornices  and  mouldings  be 
gilded,  because  such  is  usually  the  case)— let  the  sun  and 
heat  of  a summer’s  day  come  tempered  through  the  deep 
lattices  of  a well-fitting  “ jalousie,”  bearing  upon  them  the 
rich  incense  of  a fragrant  orange  tree  in  blossom — and  the 
sparkling  drops  of  a neighboring  fountain,  the  gentle  plash 
of  which  is  faintly  audible  amid  the  hum  of  a drone-bee — let 
such  be  the  “ agrements  ” without — while  within,  let  the  more 
substantial  joys  of  the  table  await,  in  such  guise  as  only  a 
French  cuisine  can  present  them — give  me  these,  I say,  and 
I shall  never  sigh  for  the  far-famed  and  long-deplored  com- 
forts of  a box  in  a coffee-room,  like  a pew  in  a parish  church, 
though  certainly  not  so  well  cushioned,  and  fully  as  dull, 
With  a hot  waiter  and  a cold  beefsteak — the  only  thing  higher 


HARR  Y LORREQUER 


m 

than  your  game  being  your  bill,  and  the  only  thing  less 
drinkable  than  your  port  being  the  porter. 

With  such  exotic  notions,  figurez-vous , my  dear  reader, 
whether  or  not  I felt  happy  as  I found  myself  seated  be- 
tween my  two  fair  friends, doing  the  honors  of  a little  supper, 
and  assisting  the  exhilaration  of  our  champagne  by  such 
efforts  of  wit  as  under  favorable  circumstances  like  these, 
are  ever  successful — and  which,  being  like  the  foaming 
liquid  which  washes  them  down,  to  be  swallowed  without 
waiting,  are  ever  esteemed  good,  from  the  excitement  that 
results,  and  never  seriously  canvassed  for  any  more  sterling 
merit.  Nothing  every  makes  a man  so  agreeable  as  a belief 
that  he  is  so ; and  certainly  my  fair  companions  appeared  to 
have  the  most  excellent  idea  of  my  powers  in  that  respect ; 
and  I fancy  that  I made  more  bon  mots , hit  off  more  epigrams, 
and  invented  more  choice  incidents  on  that  happy  evening, 
than,  if  now  remembered,  would  suffice  to  pay  my  tailor’s 
bill,  when  collated  for  Bentley’s  Miscellany,  and  illustrated 
by  Cruikshank.  Alas  ! that,  like  the  good  liquor  that  sea- 
soned them,  both  are  gone  by,  and  I am  left  but  to  chronicle 
the  memory  of  the  fun  in  dulness,  and  counterfeit  the  effer- 
vescence of  the  grape  juice  by  soda-water.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, is  certain — we  formed  a most  agreeable  party ; and  if 
a feeling  of  gloom  ever  momentarily  shot  through  my  mind, 
it  was,  that  evenings  like  these  came  so  rarely  in  this  work- 
a-day  world — that  each  such  should  be  looked  on  as  our  last. 

“•  If  I had  not  already  shown  myself  up  to  my  reader  as  a 
gar$on  volage  of  the  first  water,  perhaps  I should  now  hesi- 
tate about  confessing  that  I half  regretted  the  short  space 
during  which  it  should  be  my  privilege  to  act  as  the  guide 
and  mentor  of  my  two  friends.  The  impetuous  haste  which 
I before  felt  necessary  to  exercise  in  reaching  Paris  imme- 
diately was  now  tempered  by  prudent  thoughts  about  travelling 
at  night,  and  reflections  about  sun-stroke  by  day ; and  even 
moments  most  devoted  to  the  object  of  my  heart’s  aspirations 
were  fettered  by  the  very  philosophic  idea,  that  it  could 
never  detract  from  the  pleasure  of  the  happiness  that  awaited 
me,  if  I travelled  on  the  primrose  path  to  its  attainment.  I 
argued  thus:  if  Lady  Jane  be  true — if — if,  in  a word,  I am 
destined  to  have  any  success  in  the  Callonby  family,  then 
will  a day  or  two  more  not  risk  it.  My  present  friends  I 
shall,  of  course,  take  leave  of  at  Paris,  where  their  own 
acquaintances  await  them  ; and  on  the  other  hand,  should  I 


2*8 


HARRY  LORREQVER. 


be  doomed  once  more  to  disappointment,  I ani  equally 
certain  I should  feel  no  disposition  to  form  a new  attachment. 
Thus  did  I reason,  and  thus  I believed;  and  though  I was  a 
kind  of  consultation  opinion  among  my  friends  in  “ suits  of 
love,”  I was  really  then  unaware  that  at  no  time  is  a man  so 
prone  to  fall  in  love  as  immediately  after  his  being  jilted.  If 
common  sense  will  teach  us  not  to  dance  a bolero  upon  a 
sprained  ankle,  so  might  it  also  convey  an  equally  important 
lesson,  not  to  expose  our  more  vital  inflammatory  organ  to 
the  fire  the  day  after  its  being  singed. 

Reflections  like  these  did  not  occur  to  me  at  this  moment, 
besides  that,  I was  “ going  the  pace  ” with  a forty-horse  power 
of  agreeability  that  left  me  little  time  for  thought — least 
of  all,  if  serious.  So  stood  matters.  I had  just  filled  our 
tall  slender  glasses  with  the  creaming  and  “ petillan  ” source 
of  wit  and  inspiration,  when  the  loud  crack,  crack,  crack  of 
a postilion’s  whip,  accompanied  by  the  shaking  trot  of  a 
heavy  team  and  the  roll  of  wheels,  announced  a newr  arrival. 
“ Here  they  come,”  said  I ; “ only  look  at  them — four  horses 
and  one  postilion,  all  apparently  straggling  and  straying 
after  their  own  fancy,  but  yet  going  surprisingly  straight, 
notwithstanding.  See  how  they  come  through  that  narrow 
archway — it  might  puzzle  the  best  four-in-hand  in  England  to 
do  it  better.” 

“ What  a handsome  young  man,  if  he  had  not  those  odious 
mustaches.  Why,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  he  knows  you : see,  he  is 
bowing  to  you.” 

“ Me  ? Oh  ! no.  Why,  surely,  it  must  be — the  devil — it  is 
Kilkee,  Lady  Jane’s  brother.  I know  his  temper  well.  One 
five  minutes’  observation  of  my  present  intimacy  with  my 
fair  friends,  and  adieu  to  all  hopes  for  me  of  calling  Lord 
Callonby  my  father-in-law.  There  is  not,  therefore,  a moment 
to  lose.” 

As  these  thoughts  revolved  through  my  mind,  the  confusion 
I felt  had  covered  my  face  with  scarlet ; and  with  a species 
of  blundering  apology  for  abruptly  leaving  them  for  a moment, 
I ran  downstairs  only  in  time  sufficient  to  anticipate  Kilkee’s 
questions  as  to  the  number  of  my  apartments,  to  which  he 
was  desirous  of  proceeding  at  once.  Our  first  greetings 
over,  Kilkee  questioned  me  as  to  my  route — adding,  that  his 
now  was  necessarily  an  undecided  one,  for  if  his  family 
happened  not  to  be  at  Paris,  he  should  be  obliged  to  seek 
after  them  among  the  German  watering-places.  “In  any  case, 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


239 


Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  he,  “ we  shall  hunt  them  in  couples. 
I must  insist  upon  your  coming  along  with  me.” 

“ Oh  ! that,”  said  I,  “ you  must  not  think  of.  Your  car- 
riage is  a coupe,  and  I cannot  think  of  crowding  you.” 

“ Why,  you  don’t  seriously  want  to  affront  me,  I hope  ;-for 
I flatter  myself  that  a more  perfect  carriage  for  two  people 
cannot  be  built.  Hobson  made  it  on  a plan  of  my  own,  and  I 
am  excessively  proud  of  it,  I assure  you.  Come,  that  matter 
Is  decided — now  for  supper.  Are  there  many  English  here 
;ust  now  ? By  the  by,  those  new  i natives  ’ I think  I saw 
/ou  standing  with  on  the  balcony — who  are  they  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! the  ladies — oh  ! yes,  people  I came  over  with ” 

“ One  was  pretty,  I fancied.  Have  you  supped?  Just 
order  something,  will  you — meanwhile,  I shall  write  a few 
lines  before  the  post  leaves.”  Saying  which  he  dashed  up- 
stairs after  the  waiter,  and  left  me  to  my  meditations. 

“ This  begins  , to  be  pleasant,”  thought  I,  as  the  door 
closed,  leaving  me  alone  in  the  “ saloon.”  In  circumstances 
of  such  moment  I had  never  felt  so  nonplussed  as  now,  how 
to  decline  Kilkee’s  invitation,  without  discovering  my  intimacy 
with  the  Binghams — and  yet  I could  not,  by  any  possibility, 
desert  them  Jlius  abruptly.  Such  was  the  dilemma.  “ I see 
but  one  thjmg  for  it,  ” said  I,  gloomily,  as  I strode  through 
the  coffee-room,  with  my  head  sunk  and  my  hands  behind 
my  back — “ I see  but  one  thing  left — I must  be  taken  ill  to- 
night, and  not  be  able  to  leave  my  bed  in  the  morning — a 
fever — a contagious  fever — blue  and  red  spots  all  over  me — 
and  be  raving  wildly  before  breakfast  time  ; and  if  ever  any 
discovery  takes  place  of  my  intimacy  above  stairs,  I must 
only  establish  it  as  a premonitory  symptom  of  insanity,  which 
seized  me  in  the  packet.  And  now  for  a doctor  that  will 
understand  my  case,  and  listen  to  reason,  as  they  would  call 
it  in  Ireland.”  With  this  idea  uppermost,  I walked  out  into 
the  courtyard  to  look  for  a commissionnaire  to  guide  me  in 
my  search.  Around  on  every  side  of  me  stood  the  various 
'carriages  and  voitures  of  the  hotel  and  its  inmates,  to  the 
full  as  distinctive  and  peculiar  in  character  as  their  owners. 
“ Ah ! there  is  Kilkee’s,”  said  I,  as  my  eye  lighted  upon  the 
well-balanced  and  elegant  little  carriage  which  he  had  been 
only  with  justice  encomiumizing.  “ It  is  certainly  perfect, 
and  yet  I’d  give  a handful  of  louis-cl’or  if  it  was  like  that 
venerable  cabriolet  yonder,  with  the  one  wheel  and  no  shafts. 
But,  alas  ! those  springs  give  little  hope  of  a break-down,  and 


2\0 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


that  confounded  axle  will  outlive  the  patentee.  But  still,  can 
nothing  be  done  ? — eh  ? Come,  the  thought  is  a good  one— 
I say,  gay  gargon,  who  greases  the  wheels  of  the  carriages 
here  ? ” 

“ C’est  moi,  monsieur,”  said  a great  oaf,  in  wooden  shoes 
and  a blouse. 

“ Well,  then,  do  you  understand  these  ? ” said  I,  touching 
the  patent  axle-boxes  with  my  cane. 

He  shook  his  head. 

“ Then  who  does,  here  ? ” 

“ Ah  ! Michael  understands  them  perfectly.” 

“ Then  bring  him  here,”  said  I. 

In  a few  minutes  a little  shrewd  old  fellow,  with  a smith's 
apron,  made  his  appearance,  and  introduced  himself  as  M. 
Michael.  I had  not  much  difficulty  in  making  him  master 
of  my  plan,  which  was  to  detach  one  of  the  wheels,  as  if  for 
the  purpose  of  oiling  the  axle,  and  afterward  render  it  incap- 
able of  being  replaced — at  least  for  twenty-four  hours. 

“ This  is  my  idea,”  said  I ; “ nevertheless,  do  not  be 
influenced  by  me.  All  I ask  is,  disable  the  carriage  from 
proceeding  to-morrow,  and  here  are  three  louis-d’ors  at 
your  service.”  1 \ 

“ Soyez  bien  tranquille,  monsieur,  milor  shall  spend  to- 
morrow in  Calais,  if  I know  anything  of  my  art ; ” saying 
which  he  set  out  in  search  of  his  tools,  while  I returned  to  the 
saloon  with  my  mind  relieved,  and  fully  prepared  to  press 
the  urgency  of  my  reaching  Paris  without  any  delay. 

“ Well,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  Kilkee,.  as  I entered,  “ here 
is  supper  waiting,  a;nd  I am  as  hungry  as  a wolf.” 

“ Oh  ! I beg  pardon — I’ve  been  getting  everything  in  readi- 
ness for  our  start  to-morrow  morning,  for  I have  not  told  you 
how  anxious  I am  to  get  to  Paris  before  the  8th — some 
family  business  which  requires  my  looking  after  compelling 
me  to  do  so.” 

“ As  to  that,  let  your  mind  be  at  rest,  for  I shall  travel  to- 
morrow night,  if  you  prefer  it.  Now  for  the  Vo/nay . Why, 
you  are  not  drinking  your  wine.  What  do  you  say  to  our 
paying  our  respects  to  the  fair  ladies  above  stairs  ? I am 
sure  the  fietits  soins  you  have  practised  coming  over  would 
permit  the  liberty.” 

“ Oh  ! hang  it,  no.  There’s  neither  of  them  pretty,  and  I 
should  rather  avoid  the  risk  of  making  a regular  acquaintance 
with  them,”  said  I. 


HA  RR  V L ORREQ  UER. 


241 


“ As  you  like,  then — only,  as  you’ll  not  take  any  wine,  let 
us  have  a stroll  through  the  town.” 

After  a short  stroll  through  the  town,  in  which  Kilkee 
talked  the  entire  time,  but  of  what  I know  not,  my  thoughts 
being  upon  my  own  immediate  concerns,  we  returned  to  the 
hotel.  As  we  entered  the  porte  cochere,  my  friend  Michael 
passed  me,  and  as  he  took  off  his  hat  in  salutation,  gave  m$ 
one  rapid  glance  of  his  knowing  eye,  that  completely  satisfied 
me  that  Hobson’s  pride  in  my  friend’s  carriage  had  by  that 
time  received  quite  sufficient  provocation  to  throw  him  into 
an  apoplexy. 

“ By  the  by,”  said  I,  “ let  us  see  your  carriage.  I am 
curious  to  look  at  it  ” — (and  so  I was). 

“ Well,  then,  come  along,  this  way  ; they  have  placed  it 
under  some  of  the  sheds,  which  they  think  coach-houses.” 

I followed  my  friend  through  the  court  till  we  arrived  near 
the  fatal  spot;  but  before  reaching,  he  had  caught  a glimpse 
of  the  mischief,  and  shouted  out  a most  awful  imprecation 
upon  the  author  of  the  deed  which  met  his  eye.  The  fore- 
wheel of  the  coupe  had  been  taken  from  the  axle,  and  in  the 
difficulty  of  so  doing,  from  the  excellence  of  the  workmanship, 
two  of  the  spokes  were  broken — the  patent  box  was  a mass 
of  bent  metal,  and  the  end  of  the  axle  turned  downward  like 
a hoe. 

I cannot  convey  any  idea  of  poor  Kilkee’s  distraction  ; and 
in  reality  my  own  was  little  short  of  it ; for  the  wretch  had 
so  far  outstripped  my  orders,  that  I became  horrified  at  the 
cruel  destruction  before  me.  We  both,  therefore,  stormed  in 
the  most  impossible  English  and  French,  first  separately  and 
then  together.  We  offered  a reward  for  the  apprehension  of 
the  culprit,  whom  no  one  appeared  to  know,  although,  as  it 
happened,  every  one  in  a large  household  was  aware  of  the 
transaction  but  the  proprietor  himself.  We  abused  all — the 
innkeeper,  waiters,  hostlers,  and  chambermaids,  collectively 
and  individually— condemned  Calais  as  a den  of  iniquity, 
and  branded  all  Frenchmen  as  rogues  and  vagabonds.  This 
seemed  to  alleviate  considerably  my  friend’s  grief,  and  excite 
my  thirst — fortunately,  perhaps,  for  us  ; for  if  our  eloquence 
had  held  out  much  longer,  I am  afraid  our  auditory  might 
have  lost  their  patience  ; and,  indeed,  I am  quite  certain  if 
our  French  had  not  been  in  nearly  as  disjointed  a condi- 
tion as  the  spokes  of  the  caleche , such  must  have  been  the 
case. 

16 


2\2 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ Well,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I suppose,  then,  we  are  not  destined 
to  be  fellow-travellers — for  if  you  must  go  to-morrow ” 

“ Alas  ! it  is  imperative/’  said  I. 

“ Then,  in  any  case,  let  us  arrange  where  we  shall  meet, 
for  I hope  to  be  in  Paris  the  day  after  you.” 

“ I’ll  stop  at  Meurice’s.” 

“ Meurice’s  be  it,”  said  he,  “ so  now  good-night,  till  we  meet 
in  Paris.” 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  GENDARME. 

I had,  fortunately,  sufficient  influence  upon,  my  fair  friends 
to  persuade  them  to  leave  Calais  early  on  the  morning  follow- 
ing ; and  two  hours  before  Kilkee  had  opened  his  eyes  upon 
this  mortal  life  we  were  far  upon  the  road  to  Paris. 

Having  thus  far  perfectly  succeeded  in  my  plot,  my  spirits 
rose  rapidly,  and  I made  every  exertion  to  make  the  road 
appear  short  to  my  fellow-travellers.  This  part  of  France  is 
unfortunately  deficient  in  any  interest  from  scenery ; large 
undivided  tracts  of  waving  corn-fields,  with  a background  of 
apparently  interminable  forests,  and  occasionally,  but  rarely, 
the  glimpse  of  some  old  time-worn  chateau,  with  its  pointed 
gable  and  terraced  walk,  are  nearly  all  that  the  eye  can  detect 
in  the  intervals  between  the  small  towns  and  villages. 
Nothing,  however,  is  “ flat  or  unprofitable  ” to  those  who  de- 
sire to  make  it  otherwise ; good  health,  good  spirits,  and  fine 
weather  are  wonderful  travelling  companions,  and  render 
one  tolerably  independent  of  the  charms  of  scenery.  Every 
mile  that  separated  me  from  Calais,  and  took  away  the  chance 
of  being  overtaken,  added  to  my  gayety,  and  I flatter  myself 
that  a happier  party  have  rarely  travelled  that  well  frequented 
road. 

We  reached  Abbeville  to  dinner,  and  adjourned  to  the 
beautiful  little  garden  of  the  inn  for  our  coffee  ; the  evening 
was  so  delightful  that  I proposed  to  walk  on  the  Paris  road, 
until  the  coming  up  of  the  carriage,  which  required  a screw,  or 
a washer,  or  some  such  trifle  as  always  occurs  in  French 
posting.  To  this  la  cliere  mamma  objected,  she  being  tired, 
but  added,  that  Isabella  and  I might  go  on,  and  that  she 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


243 


would  take  us  up  in  half  an  hour.  This  was  an  arrangement 
so  very  agreeable  and  unlooked  for  by  me,  that  I pressed 
Miss  Bingham  as  far  as  I well  could,  and  at  last  succeeded 
in  overcoming  her  scruples,  and  permitting  me  to  shawl  her. 
One  has  always  a tremendous  power  of  argument  with  the 
uninitiated  abroad,  by  a reference  to  a standard  of  manners 
and  habits  totally  different  from  our  own.  Thus  the  talis- 
manic  words,  “ Oh  ! don’t  be  shocked ; remember  you  are 
in  France,”  did  more  to  satisfy  my  young  friend’s  mind 
than  all  I could  have  said  for  an  hour.  Little  did  she  know 
that  in  England  only  has  an  unmarried  young  lady  any  liberty, 
and  that  the  standard  of  foreign  propriety  on  this  head  is 
far,  very  far,  more  rigid  than  our  own. 

“ La  premiere  rue  a gauche,”  said  an  old  man,  of  whom  I 
inquired  the  road  ; “ et  puis,”  added  I. 

“ And  then  quite  straight ; it  is  a chaussee  all  the  way, 
and  you  cannot  mistakeflt.” 

“ Now  for  it,  mademoiselle,”  said  I.  “ Let  us  try  if  we 
cannot  see  a good  deal  of  the  country  before  the  carriage 
comes  up.” 

We  had  soon  left  the  town  behind  and  reached  a beauti- 
fully shaded  high-road,  with  blossoming  fruit  trees,  and 
honeysuckle-covered  cottages  ; there  had  been  several  light 
showers  during  the  day,  and  the  air  had  all  the  fresh,  fra- 
grant feeling  of  an  autumn  evening,  so  tranquillizing  and 
calming  that  few  there  are  who  have  not  felt,  at  some  time 
or  other  of  their  lives,  its  influence  upon  their  minds.  I 
fancied  my  fair  companion  did  so,  for,  as  she  walked  beside 
me,  her  silence,  and  the  gentle  pressure  of  her  arm,  were  far 
more  eloquent  than  words. 

If  that  extraordinary  flutter  and  flurry  of  sensations  which 
will  now  and  then  seize  you,  when  walking  upon  a lonely 
country  road  with  a pretty  girl  for  your  companion,  whose 
arm  is  linked  in  yours,  and  whose  thoughts,  as  far  as  you  can 
guess  at  least,  are  travelling  the  same  path  with  your  own — 
if  this  be  animal  magnetism,  or  one  of  its  phenomena,  then 
do  I swear  by  Mesmer,  whatever  it  be,  delusion  or  otherwise, 
it  has  given  me  the  brightest  moments  of  my  life — these  are 
the  real  “ winged  dreams  ” of  pleasures  which  outlive  others 
of  more  absorbing  and  actual  interest  at  the  time.  After  all, 
for  how  many  of  our  happiest  feelings  are  we  indebted  to  the 
weakness  of  our  nature  ! The  man  that  is  wise  at  nineteen, 
“ Je  Ten  fais  mon  compliment,”  but  I assuredly  do  nor  envy 


HA 


I/ARR  Y LOR REQUE/L 


him ; and  now,  even  now,  when  I number  more  years  than  I 
should  like  to  “ confess,”  rather  than  suffer  the  suspicious 
watchfulness  of  age  to  creep  on  me,  1 prefer  to  “ go  on  believ- 
ing,” even  though  every  hour  of  the  day  should  show  me  duped 
and  deceived.  While  I plead  guilty  to  this  impeachment, 
let  me  show  in  mitigation  that  it  has  its  enjoyments — first, 
although  I am  the  most  constant  and  devoted  man  breathing, 
as  a very  cursory  glance  at  these  Confessions  may  prove,  yet 
I have  never  been  able  to  restrain  myself  from  a propensity 
to  make  love,  merely  as  a pastime.  The  gambler  that  sits 
down  Xo  play  cards  or  hazard  against  himself,  may  perhaps 
be  the  only  person  that  can  comprehend  this  tendency  of 
mine.  We  both  of  us  are  playing  for  nothing  (or  love,  which 
I suppose  is  synonymous) ; we  neither  of  us  put  forth  our 
strength  ; for  that  very  reason,  and  in  fact  like  the  waiter  at 
Vauxhall,  who  was  complimented  upon  the  dexterity  with 
which  he  poured  out  lemonade,  and  confessed  that  he  spent 
his  mornings  “ practising  with  vater,”  we  pass  a considerable 
portion  of  our  lives  in  a mimic  warfare,  which,  if  it  seems 
unprofitable,  is  nevertheless  pleasant. 

After  all  this  long  tirade,  need  I say  how  our  walk  pro- 
ceeded ? We  had  fallen  into  a kind  of  discussion  upon  the 
singular  intimacy  which  had  so  rapidly  grown  up  amongst  us, 
and  which  years  long  might  have  failed  to  engender.  Our 
attempts  to  analyze  the  reasons  for,  and  the  nature  of,  the 
friendship  thus  so  suddenly  established — a rather  dangerous 
and  difficult  topic,  when  the  parties  are  both  young — one 
eminently  handsome,  and  the  other  disposed  to  be  most 
agreeable.  Oh,  my  dear  young  friends  of  either  sex,  what- 
ever your  feelings  be  for  one  another,  keep  them  to  your- 
selves; I know  of  nothing  half  so  hazardous  as  that  “com- 
paring of  notes  ” which  sometimes  happens.  Analysis  is  a 
beautiful  thing  in  mathematics  or  chemistry,  but  it  makes 
sad  havoc  when  applied  to  the  “ functions  of  the  heart.” 

“ Mamma  appears  to  have  forgotten  us,”  said  Isabella,  as 
she  spoke,  after  walking  for  some  time  in  silence  beside  me. 

“ Oh,  depend  upon  it,  the  carriage  has  taken  all  this  time 
to  repair  ; but  are  you  tired  ? ” 

“ Oh,  by  no  means  ; the  evening  is  delightful,  but ” 

“ Then  perhaps  you  are  ennuyee ,”  said  I,  half  pettishly, 
to  provoke  a disclaimer  if  possible.  To  this  ‘insidiously  put 
query  I received,  as  I deserved,  no  a*~swer,  and  again  we 
sauntered  on  without  speaking. 


HARRY  LORREQUEk. 


“43 

tl  To  whom  does  that  chateau  belong,  my  old  friend  ?”  said 
I,  addressing  a man  on  the  roadside. 

“ A Monsieur  le  Marquis,  sir,”  replied  he. 

“ But  what’s  his  name,  though  ? ” 

“ Ah,  that  I can’t  tell  you,”  replied  the  man  again. 

There  you  may  perceive  how,  even  yet,  in  provincial 
France,  the  old  respect  for  the  aristocracy  still  survives  ; it 
is  sufficient  that  the  possessor  of  that  fine  place  is  “ Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis ; ” but  any  other  knowledge  of  who  he  is 
and  what  is  superfluous. 

“ How  far  are  we  from  the  next  village,  do  you  know  ? ” 

“ About  a league.” 

“ Indeed.  Why  I thought  ‘La  Scrape  ’ was  quite  near  us.” 
“ Ah,  you  are  thinking  of  the  Amiens  road  ? ” 

“ Yes,  of  course  ; and  is  not  this  the  Amiens  road  ? ” 

“ Oh,  no  ; the  Amiens  road  lies  beyond  those  low  hills  to 
the  right.  You  passed  the  turn  at  the  first  ‘ barriered  ” 

“ Is  it  possible  we  could  have  come  wrong? 99 
“ Oh,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  don’t  say  so,  I entreat  you  !” 

“ And  what  road  is  this,  then,  my  friend  ? ” 

“ This  is  the  road  to  Albert  and  Peronne.” 

“ Unfortunately,  I believe  he  is  quite  right.  Is  there  any 
cross-road  from  the  village  before  us  now  to  the  Amiens 
road  ? ” 

“ Yes ; you  can  reach  it  about  three  leagues  hence.” 

“ And  we  can  get  a carriage  at  the  inn,  probably  ? ” 

“ Ah,  that  I am  not  sure  of.  Perhaps  at  the  Lion  d’Or 
you  may.” 

“ But  why  not  go  back  to  Abbeville  ? ” 

“ Oh,  Mrs.  Bingham  must  have  left  long  since,  and  be- 
sides you  forget  the  distance  ; we  have  been  walking  two 
hours.” 

“ Now  for  the  village,”  said  I,  as  I drew  my  friend’s  arm 
closer  within  mine,  and  we  set  out  in  a fast  walk. 

Isabella  seemed  terribly  frightened  at  the  whole  affair ; 
what  her  mamma  might  think,  and  what  might  be  her  fears 
at  not  finding  us  on  the  road,  and  a hundred  other  encourag- 
ing reflections  of  this  nature  she  poured  forth  unceasingly, 
As  for  myself,  I did  not  know  well  what  to  think  of  it ; my 
old  fondness  for  adventure  being  ever  sufficiently  strong  in 
me  to  give  a relish  to  anything  which  bore  the  least  resem- 
blance to  one.  This  I now  concealed,  and  sympathized  with 
my  fair  friend  upon  our  mishap,  and  assuring  her,  at  the  same 


HARRY  LORREQVER. 


246 

time,  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  our  overtaking  Mrs.  ~ 
Bingham  before  her  arrival  at  Amiens. 

“ Ah,  there  is  the  village  in  the  valley ; how  beautifully 
situated.” 

“ Oh,  I can’t  admire  anything  now,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I am  so 
frightened.” 

“ But  surely  without  cause,”  said  I,  looking  tenderly  be- 
neath her  bonnet. 

“ Is  this,”  she  answered,  “ nothing?  ” and  we  walked  on  in 
silence  again. 

On  reaching  the  Lion  d’Or,  we  discovered  that  the  only 
conveyance  to  be  had  was  a species  of  open  market-cart, 
drawn  by  two  horses,  and  in  which  it  was  necessary  that  my 
fair  friend  and  myself  should  seat  ourselves  side  by  side  upon 
straw ; there  was  no  choice,  and  as  for  Miss  Bingham,  I believe 
if  an  ass  with  panniers  had  presented  itself,  she  would  have 
prefered  it  to  remaining  where  she  was.  We  therefore  took 
our  places,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  as  we 
set  out  upon  our  journey  in  this  absurd  equipage,  every  jolt 
of  which  threw  us  from  side  to  side,  and  rendered  every 
attention  on  my  part  requisite  to  prevent  her  being  upset. 

After  about  two  hours’  travelling  we  arrived  at  the  Amiens 
road,  and  stopped  at  the  barriere.  I immediately  inquired 
if  a carriage  had  passed,  resembling  Mrs.  Bingham’s,  and 
learned  that  it  had,  about  an  hour  before,  and  that  the  lady 
in  it  had  been  informed  that  two  persons  like  those  she  asked 
after  had  been  seen  in  a caleche  driving  rapidly  to  Amiens, 
upon  which  she  set  out  as  fast  as  possible  in  pursuit. 

“ Certainly,”  said  I;  “ the  plot  is  thickening;  but  for 
that  unlucky  mistake  she  might  in  all  probability  have  waited 
here  for  us.  Amiens  is  only  two  leagues  now,  so  our  drive 
will  not  be  long,  and  before  six  o’clock  we  shall  all  be 
laughing  over  the  matter  as  a very  good  joke.” 

On  we  rattled,  and  as  the  road  became  less  frequented, 
and  the  shadows  lengthened,  I could  not  but  wonder  at  the 
strange  situations  which  the  adventurous  character  of  my 
life  had  so  often  involved  me  in.  Meanwhile,  my  fair 
friend’s  spirits  became ‘more  and  more  depressed,  and  it  was 
not  without  the  greatest  difficulty  I was  enabled  to  support 
her  courage.  I assured  her,  and  not  altogether  without 
reason,  that  though  so  often  in  my  eventful  career  accidents 
were  occurring  which  rendered  it  dubious  and  difficult  to 
reach  the  goal  I aimed  at,  yet  the  results  had  so  often  been 


HA  RR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


247 


more  pleasant  than  I could  have  anticipated,  that  I always 
felt  a kind  of  involuntary  satisfaction  at  some  apparent 
obstacle  to  my  path,  setting  it  down  as  some  especial  means 
of  fortune,  to  heighten  the  pleasure  awaiting  me  ; “ and  now,” 
added  I,  “ even  here,  perhaps,  in  this  very  mistake  of  our 
road — the  sentiments  I have  heard — the  feelings  I have  given 

utterance  to ” What  I was  about  to  say  Heaven  knows 

— perhaps  nothing  less  than  a downright  proposal  was 
coming  ; but  at  that  critical  moment  a gendarme  rode  up  to 
the  side  of  our  wagon,  and  surveyed  us  with  the  peculiarly 
significant  scowl  his  order  is  gifted  with.  After  trotting 
alongside  for  a few  seconds  he  ordered  the  driver  to  halt, 
and,  turning  abruptly  to  us,  demanded  our  passports.  Now 
our  passports  were  at  that  precise  moment  peaceably  reposing 
in  the  side-pocket  of  Mrs.  Bingham’s  carriage  ; I therefore 
explained  to  the  gendarme  how  we  were  circumstanced  and 
added,  that  on  arriving  at  Amiens  the  passports  should  be 
produced.  To  this  he  replied,  that  all  might  be  perfectly 
true,  but  he  did  not  believe  a word  of  it — that  he  had  received 
an  order  for  the  apprehension  of  two  English  persons 
travelling  that  road — and  that  he  should  accordingly  request 
our  company  back  to  Chantraine,  the  commissaire  of  which 
place  was  his  officer. 

“ But  why  not  take  us  to  Amiens  ? ” said  I ; “ particularly 
when'  I tell  you  that  we  can  then  show  our  passports  ? ” 

“ I belong  to  the  Chantraine  district,”  was  the  laconic 
answer,  and,  like  the  gentleman  who  could  not  weep  at  the 
sermon  because  he  belonged  to  another  parish,  this  specimen 
of  a French  Dogberry  would  not  hear  reason  except  in  his 
own  “ commune.” 

No  arguments  that  I could  think  of  had  any  effect  upon 
him,  and  amid  a volley  of  entreaty  and  imprecation,  both 
equally  vain,  we  saw  ourselves  turn  back  upon  the  road  to 
Amiens,  and  set  out  at  a round  trot  to  Chantraine,  on  the 
road  to  Calais. 

, Poor.  Isabella  : I really  pitied  her  ; hitherto  her  courage 
had  been  principally  sustained  by  the  prospect  of  soon 
reaching  Amiens ; now  there  was  no  seeing  where  our 
adventure  was  to  end.  Besides  that,  actual  fatigue  from 
the  wretched  conveyance  began  to  distress  her,  and  she  was 
scarcely  able  to  support  herself,  though  assisted  by  my  arm. 
What  a perilous  position  mine,  whispering  consolation  and 
comfort  to  a pretty  girl  on  a lonely  road,  the  only  person  neat 


248 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


being  one  who  comprehended  nothing  of  the  language  wcr 
spoke  in.  Ah,  how  little  do  we  know  of  fate,  and  how  often 
do  we  despise  circumstances  that  determine  all  our  fortunes 
in  the  world.  To  think  that  a gendarme  should  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  my  future  lot  in  life,  and  that  the  real  want 
of  a passport  to  travel  should  involve  the  probable  want  of 
a licence  to  marry.  “ Yes,  it  is  quite  in  keeping,”  thought 
I,  “ with  every  step  I have  taken  through  life.  I may  be 
brought  before  the  4 maire,’  as  a culprit,  and  leave  him  as  a 
Benedick.” 

On  reaching  the  town,  we  were  not  permitted  to  drive  to 
the  inn,  but  at  once  conveyed  to  the  house  of  the  “ com- 
missaire,”  who  was  also  the  “ maire”  of  the  district.  The 
worthy  functionary  was  long  since  in  bed,  and  it  was  only 
after  ringing  violently  for  half  an  hour  that  a head,  surmount- 
ed with  a dirty  cotton  night-cap,  peeped  from  an  upper 
window,  and  seemed  to  survey  the  assemblage  beneath  with 
patient  attention.  By  this  tim£  a considerable  crowd  had 
collected  from  the  neighboring  ale-houses  and  cabarets , who 
deemed  it  a most  fitting  occasion  to  honor  us  with  the  most 
infernal  yells  and  shouts,  as  indicating  their  love  of  justice, 
and  delight  in  detecting  knavery ; and  that  we  were  both 
involved  in  such  suspicion  we  had  not  long  to  learn.  Mean- 
while, the  poor  old  “ maire,”  who  had  been  an  employe  in  the 
stormy  days  of  the  revolution,  and  also  under  Napoleon,  and 
who  fully  concurred  with  Swift,  that  a “ crowd  is  a mob,  if 
composed  even  of  bishops,”  firmly  believed  that  the  uproar 
beneath  in  the  street  was  the  announcement  of  a new  change 
of  affairs  at  Paris,  determined  to  be  early  in  the  field,  and 
shouted  therefore  with  all  his  lungs,  “ Vive  le  peuple,”  “ Vive  la 
charte,”  “ A bas  les  autres.”  A tremendous  shout  of  laughter 
saluted  this  exhibition  of  unexpected  republicanism,  and  the 
poor  “ maire  ” retired  from  the  window,  having  learned  his 
mistake,  covered  with  shame  and  confusion. 

Before  the  mirth  caused  by  this  blunder  had  subsided  the 
door  had  opened,  and  we  were  ushered  into  the  bureau  of 
the  commissaire,  accompanied  by  the  anxious  crowd,  all 
curious  to  know  the  particulars  of  our  crime. 

The  maire  soon  appeared,  his  night-cap  being  replaced  by 
a small  black  velvet  skull-cap,  and  his  lanky  figure  enveloped 
in  a tarnished  silk  dressing-gown  ; he  permitted  us  to  be  seated, 
while  the  gendarme  recounted  the  suspicious  circumstances 
of  our  travelling,  and  produced  the  order  to  arrest  an 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2 49 


Englishman  and  his  wife  who  had  arrived  in  one  of  the 
late  Boulogne  packets,  and  who  had  carried  off  from  some 
banking-house  money  and  bills  for  a large  amount. 

“ I have  no  doubt  these  are  the  people,”  said  the  gendarme, 
**  and  here  is  the  ‘ carte  descriptive.'  Let  us  compare  it — ■ 
4 Forty-two  or  forty-three  years  of  age.'  ” 

“ I trust,  M.  le  Maire,”  said  I,  overhearing  this,  “ that 
ladies  do  not  recognize  me  so  much.” 

“ Of  a pale  and  cadaverous  aspect,”  continued  the 
gendarme. 

“ Civil  and  complimentary,  certainly,”  added  I. 

“ Squints  much  with  the  left  eye.  Look  at  Monsieur  le 
Maire,  if  you  please,  sir,”  said  the  gendarme. 

Upon  this,  the  old  functionary,  wiping  his  spectacles  with 
a snuffy  handkerchief,  as  if  preparing  them  to  examine  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun,  regarded  me  fixedly  for  several  minutes, 
and  said — “ Oh,  yes,  I perceive  it  plainly ; continue  the 
description.” 

“ Five  feet  three  inches,”  said  the  gendarme. 

“ Six  feet  one  in  England,  whatever  this  climate  may  have 
done  since.” 

“ Speaks  broken  and  bad  French.” 

“ Like  a native,”  said  I ; “at  least,  so  said  my  friends  in 
the  Chaussee  d’Antin,  in  the  year  fifteen.” 

Here  the  catalogue  ended,  and  a short  conference  be- 
tween the  maire  and  the  gendarme  ensued,  which  ended  in 
our  being  committed  for  examination  on  the  morrow ; mean- 
while we  were  to  remain  at  the  inn,  under  the  surveillance  of 
the  gendarme. 

On  reaching  the  inn  my  poor  friend  was  so  completely 
exhausted  that  she  at  once  retired  to  her  room,  and  I pio- 
ceeded  to  fulfil  a promise  I had  made  her  to  dispatch  a 
note  to  Mrs.  Bingham  at  Amiens  by  a special  messenger, 
acquainting  her  with  all  our  mishaps,  and  requesting  her  to 
come  or  send  to  our  assistance.  This  done,  and  a good 
supper  smoking  before  me,  of  which  with  difficulty  I per- 
suaded Isabella  to  partake  in  her  own  room,  I again  regained 
my  equanimity,  and  felt  once  more  at  ease. 

The  gendarme  into  whose  guardianship  I had  been  left 
was  a fine  specimen  of  his  caste : a large  and  powerfully- 
built  man  of  about  fifty,  with  an  enormous  beard  of  grizzly 
brown  and  gray  hair,  meeting  above  and  beneath  his  nether 
lip ; his  eyebrows  were  heavy  and  beetling,  and  nearly  con- 


250 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


cealed  his  sharp  gray  eyes,  while  a deep  sabre-wound  had 
left  upon  his  cheek  a long  white  scar,  giving  a most  warlike 
and  ferocious  look  to  his  features. 

As  he  sat  apart  from  me  for  some  time,  silent  and  mo- 
tionless, I could  not  help  imagining  in  how  many  a hard- 
fought  day  he  had  borne  a part ; for  he  evidently,  from  his 
age  and  bearing,  had  been  one  of  the  soldiers  of  the  empire. 

I invited  him  to  partake  of  my  bottle  of  Me  doc,  by  which 
fee  seemed  flattered.  When  the  flask  became  low,  and  was 
replaced  by  another,  he  appeared  to  have  lost  much  of  his 
constrained  air,  and  seemed  forgetting  rapidly  the  suspi- 
cious circumstances  which  he  supposed  attached  to  me — 
waxed  wondrous  confidential  and  communicative,  and  con- 
descended to  impart  some  traits  of  a life  which  was  not 
without  its  vicissitudes,  for  he  had  been,  as  I suspected, 
one  of  the  “ Garde  ” — the  old  guard — was  wounded  at 
Marengo,  and  received  the  croix  d’honneur  in  the  field  of 
Wagram,  from  the  hands  of  the  emperor  himself.  The  head- 
long enthusiasm  of  attachment  to  Napoleon  which  his  brief 
and  stormy  career  elicited  even  from  those  who  suffered 
long  and  deeply  in  his  behalf,  is  not  one  of  the  least  singular 
circumstances  which  this  portion  of  history  displays.  *While 
the  rigors  of  the  conscription  had  invaded  every  family  in. 
France  from  Normandie  to  La  Vendee — while  the  untilled 
fields,  the  ruined  granaries,  the  half-deserted  villages,  all 
attested  the  depopulation  of  the  land,  those  talismanic  words 
“ l'Empereur  et  la  gloire,”  by  some  magic  mechanism,  seemed 
all-sufficient  not  only  to  repress  regret  and  suffering,  but 
even  stimulate  pride  and  nourish  valor  ; and  even  yet, 
when  it  might  be  supposed  that,  like  the  brilliant  glass  of  a 
magic-lantern,  the  gaudy  pageant  had  passed  away,  leaving- 
only  the  darkness  and  desolation  behind  it — the  memory 
of  those  days  under  the  empire  survives  untarnished  and 
unimpaired,  and  every  sacrifice  of  friends  or  fortune  is  ac- 
counted but  little  in  the  balance,  when  the  honor  of  La 
Belle  France  and  the  triumphs  of  the  grand  “ armee  ” are 
weighed  against  them.  The  infatuated  and  enthusiastic  fol-  I 
lowers  of  this  great  man  would  seem,  in  some  respects,  to 
resemble  the  drunkard  in  the  “ Vaudeville,”  who  alleged  as 
his  excuse  for  drinking,  that  whenever  he  was  sober  his 
poverty  disgusted  him.  “ My  cabin,”  said  he,  “ is  a cell, 
my  wife  a mass  of  old  rags,  my  child  a wretched  object  of 
misery  and  malady.  But  give  me  brandy  ; let  me  only  have 


If  A RR  y LORREQUER . 


5S1 


that,  and  then  my  hut  is  a palace,  my  wife  is  a princess,  and 
my  child  the  very  picture  of  health  and  happiness  ; ” so 
with  these  people — intoxicated  with  the  triumphs  of  their 
nation  “ t&te  montie ” with  victory — they  cannot  exist  in  the 
horror  of  sobriety  which  peace  necessarily  enforces  ; and 
whenever  the  subject  turns  in  conversation  upon  the  dis- 
tresses of  the  time  or  the  evil  prospects  of  the  country,  they 
call  out,  not  like  the  drunkard  for  brandy,  but  in  the  same 
spirit  they  say — “ Ah,  if  you  would  again  see  France  flourish- 
ing and  happy,  let  us  once  more  have  our  croix  d’honneur, 
our  epaulettes,  our  voluntary  contributions,  our  Murillos, 
our  Velasquez,  our  spoils  from  Venice,  and  our  increased 
territories  to  rule  over.”  This  is  the  language  of  the  Bona- 
partists  everywhere,  and  at  all  seasons  ; and  the  mass  of 
the  nation  is  wonderfully  disposed  to  participate  in  the  sen- 
timent. The  empire  was  the  JSneid  of  the  nation,  and 
Napoleon  the  only  hero  they  could  believe  in.  You  may 
satisfy  yourself  of  this  easily.  Every  cafe  will  give  evidence 
of  it,  every  society  bears  its  testimony  to  it,  and  even  the  most 
wretched  Vaudeville , however  trivial  the  interest — however 
meagre  the  story  and  poor  the  diction,  let  the  emperor  but 
have  his  “ role  ” — let  him  be  as  laconic  as  possible,  carry 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  bear  the  well-known  cocked-hat 
and  the  “ redingote  grise  ” — the  success  is  certain — every  sen- 
tence he  utters  is  applauded,  and  not  a single  allusion  to  the 
Pyramids,  the  sun  of  Austerlitz,  Thonneur,  et  la  vieille  garde, 
but  is  sure  to  bring  down  thunders  of  acclamation.  But  I 
am  forgetting  myself,  and  perhaps  my  reader  too  ; the  con- 
versation of  the  old  gendarme  accidentally  led  me  into  re- 
flections like  these,  and  he  was  well  calculated,  in  many 
ways,  to  call  them  forth.  His  devoted  attachment — his  per- 
sonal love  of  the  emperor — of  which  he  gave  me  some  touch- 
ing instances,  was  admirably  illustrated  by  an  incident,  which 
I am  inclined  to  tell,  and  hope  it  may  amuse  th^  /eader  as 
much  as  it  did  myself  on  hearing  it. 

When  Napoleon  had  taken  possession  of  th*  Papal  do- 
minions, as  he  virtually  did,  and  carried  off  the  pope,  Pius 
VI.,  to  Paris,  this  old  soldier,  then  a musketeer  in  the  Garde, 
formed  part  of  the  company  that  mounted  guard  over  the 
holy  father.  During  the  earlier  months  of  the  holy  father’s 
confinement,  he  was  at  liberty  to  leave  his  apartments  at 
any  hour  he  pleased,  and  cross  the  courtyard  of  the  palace 
to  the  chapel  where  he  performed  mass.  At  such  moments 


2$2 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


the  portion  of  the  Imperial  Guard  then  on  duty  stood  undef 
arms,  and  received  from  the  august  hand  of  the  pope  his 
benediction  as  he  passed.  But  one  morning  a hasty  express 
arrived  from  the  Tuileries,  and  the  officer  on  duty  communi- 
cated  his  instructions  to  his  party,  that  the  apostolic  vicar 
was  not  to  be  permitted  to  pass,  as  heretofore,  to  the  chapel, 
and  that  a most  rigid  superintendence  was  to  be  exercised 
over  his  movements.  My  poor  companion  had  his  turn  for 
duty  on  that  ill-starred  day ; he  had  not  been  long  at  his 
post  when  the  sound  of  footsteps  was  heard  approaching* 
and  he  soon  saw  the  procession  which  always  attended  the 
holy  father  to  his  devotions,  advancing  toward  him  ; he  im- 
mediately placed  himself  across  the  passage,  and  with  his 
musket  in  rest,  barred  the  exit,  declaring,  at  the  same  time, 
that  such  were  his  orders.  In  vain  the  priests  who  formed 
the  cortege  addressed  themselves  to  his  heart,  and  spoke 
to  his  feelings  ; and  at  last,  finding  little  success  by  these 
methods,  explained  to  him  the  mortal  sin  and  crime  for  which 
eternal  damnation  itself  might  not  be  a too  heavy  retribu- 
tion if  he  persisted  in  preventing  his  holiness  to  pass,  and 
thus  be  a means  of  opposing  an  obstacle  to  the  head  of  the 
whole  Catholic  church  for  celebrating  the  mass.  The  sol- 
dier remained  firm  and  unmoved,  the  only  answer  he  re- 
turned being  “ that  he  had  his  orders  and  dared  not  disobey 
them.”  The  pope,  however,  persisted  in  his  resolution  and 
endeavored  to  get  by,  when  the  hardy  veteran  retreated  a 
step,  and  placing  his  musket  and  bayonet  at  ^the  charge, 
called  out : “ Au  nom  de  l’Empereur,”  when  the  pious  party 
at  last  yielded  and  slowly  retired  within  the  palace. 

Not  many  days  after,  this  severe  restriction  was  recalled, 
and  once  more  the  holy  father  was  permitted  to  goto  and  from 
the  chapel  to  the  palace,  at  such  times  as  he  pleased  ; and  again 
as  before,  in  passing  the  corridor,  the  guards  presented  arms 
and  received  the  holy  benediction,  all  except  one ; upon  him 
the  head  of  the  church  frowned  severely,  and  turned  his  back, 
while  extending  his  pious  hands  toward  the  others.  “And 
yet,”  said  the  poor  fellow,  in  concluding  his  story,  “and  yet 
T could  not  have  done  otherwise ; I had  my  orders  and  must 
have  followed  them,  and  had  the  emperor  commanded  it,  I 
should  have  run  my  bayonet  through  the  body  of  the  holy 
father  himself.” 

“ Thus,  you  see,  my  dear  sir,  how  I have  loved  the  emperor, 
for  I hare  many  a day  stood  under  lire  for  him  in  this 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


253 

world,  ‘ et  il  faut  que  faille  encore  au  feu  pour  lui  apres  ma 
mortl  ” 

He  received  in  good  part  the  consolations  I offered  him 
on  this  head  ; but  I plainly  saw  they  did  not,  could  not,  re- 
lieve his  mind  from  the  horrible  conviction  he  lay  under,  that 
his  souPs  safety  forever  had  been  bartered  for  his  attachment 
to  the  emperor. 

The  story  had  brought  us  to  the  end  of  the  third  bottle  of 
Medoc ; and,  as  I was  neither  the  pope,  nor  had  any  very 
decided  intentions  of  saying  mass,  he  offered  no  obstacle  to 
my  retiring  for  the  night,  and  betaking  myself  to  my  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"THE  INN  AT  CHANTRAINE. 

When  contrasted  with  the  comforts  of  an  English  bedroom, 
in  a good  hotel,  how  miserably  short  does  the  appearance  of 
a French  one  fall  in  the  estimation  of  the  tired  traveller.  In 
exchange  for  the  carpeted  floor,  the  well-curtained  windows, 
the  richly  tapestried  bed,  the  well-cushioned  arm-chair,  and 
the  innumerable  other  luxuries  which  await  him,  he  has 
naught  but  a narrow,  uncurtained  bed,  a bare  floor,  oc- 
casionally a flagged  one,  three  hard  cane-bottomed  chairs, 
and  a looking-glass  which  may  convey  an  idea  of  how  you 
would  look  under  the  combined  influence  of  the  cholera  and 
a stroke  of  apoplexy,  one-half  of  your  face  being  twice  the 
length  of  the  other,  and  the  entire  of  it  a bluish-green  tint — 
pretty  enough  in  one  of  Turner’s  landscapes,  but  not  at  all 
becoming  when  applied  to  the  “ human  face  divine.”  Let  no 
late  arrival  from  the  Continent  contradict  me  here  by  his  late 
experiences,  which  a stray  twenty  pounds  and  the  railroads 
- — confound  them  for  the  same — have  enabled  him  to  acquire. 
I speak  of  matters  before  it  occurred  to  all  Charing  Cross 
and  Cheapside  to  “ take  the  water  ” between  Dover  and  Calais 
and  inundate  the  world  with  the  wit  of  the  Cider  Cellar  and 
the  Hole  in  the  Wall.  No  ! In  the  days  I write  of  the 
travelled  were  of  another  genus,  and  you  might  dine  at  Very’s, 
or  have  your  loge  at  “ Les  Italiens,”  without  being  dunned 
by  your  tailor  at  the  one,  or  confronted  with  your  washer- 
woman at  the  other.  Perhaps  I have  written  all  this  in  the 


254- 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


spite  and  malice  of  a man  who  feels  that  his  louis-d’or  only 
goes  half  as  far  now  as  heretofore,  and  attributes  all  his 
diminished  enjoyments  and  restricted  luxuries  to  the  unceas- 
ing current  of  his  countrymen,  whom  fate  and  the  law  of 
imprisonment  for  debt  impel  hither.  Whether  I am  so  far 
guilty  or  not  is  not  now  the  question  ; suffice  it  to  say  that 
Harry  Lorrequer,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself,  lives 
abroad,  where  he  will  be  most  happy  to  see  any  of  his  old  and 
Former  friends  who  take  his  quarters  en  route ; and,  in  the 
words  of  a bellicose  brother  of  the  pen,  but  in  a far  different 
spirit,  he  would  add,  “ that  any  person  who  feels  himself  here 
alluded  to  may  learn  the  author’s  address  at  his  publishers.” 
“ Now  let  us  go  back  to  our  muttons,”  as  Barney  Coyle  used 
to  say  in  the  Dublin  Library  formerly — for  Barney  was  fond 
of  French  allusions,  which  occasionally,  too,  he  gave  in  their 
own  tongue,  as  once  describing  an  interview  with  Lord 
Cloncurry,  in  which  he  broke  off  suddenly  the  conference, 
adding,  “ I told  him  I never  would  consent  to  such  a proposi- 
tion, and  putting  my  chateau  ( chapeau ) on  my  head,  I left 
the  house  at  once.” 

It  was  nearly  three  o’clock  in  the  morning,  as,  accompanied 
by  the  waiter,  wtfio,  like  others  of  his  tribe,  had  become  a kind 
of  somnambulist  ex-officio,  I wended  my  way  up  one  flight  of 
stairs,  and  down  another,  along  a narrow  corridor,  down  two 
steps,  through  an  ante-chamber,  and  into  another  corridor, 
to  No.  82,  my  habitation  for  the  night.  Why  I should  have 
been  so  far  conducted  from  the  habitable  portion  of  the  house 
I had  spent  my  evening  in,  I leave  the  learned  in  such  mat- 
ters to  explain ; as  for  me,  I have  ever  remarked  it,  while 
asking  for  a chamber  in  a large  roomy  hotel,  the  singular 
pride  with  which  you  are  ushered  up  grand  staircases,  down 
passages,  through  corridors,  and  up  narrow  back  flights,  till 
the  blue  sky  is  seen  through  the  sky-light,  to  No.  199,  “ the 
only  spare  bedroom  in  the  house,”  while  the  silence  and  des- 
olation of  the  whole  establishment  would  seem  to  imply 
far  otherwise — the  only  evidence  of  occupation  being  a pair 
of  dirty  Wellingtons  at  the  door  of  No.  72. 

“ Well,  we  have  arrived  at  last,”  said  I,  drawing  a deep 
sigh  as  I threw  myself  upon  a rickety  chair,  and  surveyed 
rapidly  my  meagre-looking  apartment. 

“ Yes,  this  is  Monsieur’s  chamber,”  said  the  waiter,  with  a 
very  peculiar  look,  half  servile,  half  dull.  “ Madame  se 
couche,  No.  28,” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


255 


“Very  well,  good-night,”  said  I,  closing  the  door  hastily, 
and  not  liking  the  further  scrutiny  of  the  fellow’s  eye,  as  he 
fastened  it  on  me,  as  if  to  search  what  precise  degree  of  re- 
lationship existed  between  myself  and  my  fair  friend,  whom 
he  had  called  “ Madame  ” purposely  to  elicit  an  observation 
from  me.  “ Ten  to  one  though,”  said  I,  as  I undressed  my- 
self, “ but  they  think  she  is  my  wife — how  good — but  again 
— ay,  it  is  very  possible,  considering  we  are  in  France. 
Numero  vingt-huit — quite  far  enough  from  this  part  of  the 
house,  I should  suppose  from  my  number.  That  old  gen- 
darme was  a fine  fellow — what  strong  attachment  to  Napol- 
eon ; and  the  story  of  the  pope ; I hope  I may  remember 
that.  Isabella,  my  poor  girl — this  adventure  must  really  dis- 
tress her — hope  she  is  not  crying  over  it — what  a devil  of  a 
hard  bed — and  it  is  not  five  feet  long,  too — and,  bless  my 
soul,  is  this  all  by  way  of  covering  ? why,  I shall  be  perished 
here.  Oh  ! I must  certainly  put  all  my  clothes  over  me 
in  addition ; unfortunately,  there  is  no  hearth-rug — well, 
there  is  no  help  for  it  now — so  let  me  try  to  sleep — numero 
vingt-huit.” 

How  long  I remained  in  a kind  of  uneasy,  fitful  slumber,  I 
cannot  tell  ; but  I awoke  shivering  with  cold — puzzled  to  tell 
where  I was,  and  my  brain  addled  with  the  broken  fragments 
of  half  a dozen  dreams,  all  mingling  and  mixing  themselves 
with  the  unpleasant  realities  of  my  situation.  What  an  in- 
fernal contrivance  for  a bed,  thought  I,  as  my  head  came 
thump  against  the  top,  while  my  legs  projected  far  beyond 
the  foot-rail ; the  miserable  portion  of  clothing  over  me  at 
the  same  time  being  only  sufficient  to  temper  the  night  air, 
which  in  autumn  is  occasionally  severe  and  cutting.  This 
will  never  do.  I must  ring  the  bell  and  rouse  the  house,  if 
only  to  get  a fire,  if  they  don’t  possess  such  a thing  as  blankets. 
I immediately  rose,  and  groping  my  way  along  the  wall, 
endeavored  to  discover  the  bell.  But  in  vain ; and  for  the 
same  satisfactory  reason  that  Von  Troil  did  not  devote  one 
chapter  of  his  work  on  “ Iceland  ” to  “ snakes,”  because  there 
were  none  such  there.  What  was  now  to  be  done  ? About 
the  geography  of  my  present  abode  I knew,  perhaps,  as  much 
as  the  public  at  large  know  about  the  Coppermine  river,  and 
Behring’s  Straits.  The  world,  it  was  true,  was  before  me, 
“ wh^re  to  choose,”  admirable  things  for  an  epic,  but  de- 
cidedly an  unfortunate  circumstance  for  a very  cold  gentle- 
man in  search  of  a blanket.  Thus  thinking,  I opened  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2S6 

door  of  my  chamber,  and  not  in  any  way  resolved  how  I 
should  proceed,  I stepped  forth  into  the  long  corridor,  which 
was  dark  as  midnight  itself. 

Tracing  my  path  along  the  wall,  I soon  reached  a door 
which  I in  vain  attempted  to  open ; in  another  moment  I 
found  another  and  another,  each  of  which  were  locked.  Thus 
along  the  entire  corridor  I felt  my  way,  making  every  effort 
to  discover  where  any  of  the  people  of  the  house  might  have 
concealed  themselves,  but  without  success.  What  was  to  be 
done  now  ? It  was  of  no  use  to  go  back  to  my  late  abode, 
and  find  it  comfortless  as  I left  it ; so  I resolved  to  proceed 
in  my  search.  By  this  time  I had  arrived  at  the  top  of  a 
small  flight  of  stairs,  which  I remembered  having  come  up, 
and  which  led  to  another  long  passage  similar  to  the  one  I 
had  explored,  but  running  in  a transverse  direction.  Down 
this  I now  crept,  and  reached  the  landing,  along  the  wall  of 
which  I was  guided  by  my  hand,  as  well  for  safety  as  to  dis- 
cover the  architrave  of  some  friendly  door,  where  the  in- 
habitant might  be  sufficiently  Samaritan  to  lend  some  portion 
of  his  bed-clothes  ; door  after  door  followed  in  succession 
along  this  confounded  passage,  which  I began  to  think  as 
long  as  the  gallery  of  the  lower  one.  At  last,  however,  just 
as  my  heart  was  sinking  within  me  from  disappointment,  the  J 
handle  of  a lock  turned,  and  I found  myself  inside  a chamber. 
How  was  I now  to  proceed  ? for  if  this  apartment  did  not 
contain  any  of  the  people  of  the  hotel,  I had  but  a sorry 
excuse  for  disturbing  the  repose  of  any  traveller  who  might 
have  been  more  fortunate  than  myself  in  the  article  of 
blankets.  To  go  back,  however,  would  be  absurd,  having 
already  taken  so  much  trouble  to  find  out  a room  that  was 
inhabited — for  that  such  was  the  case,  a short,  thick  snore 
assured  me — so  that  my  resolve  was  at  once  made,  to  waken 
the  sleeper,  and  endeavor  to  interest  him  in  my  destitute 
situation.  I accordingly  approached  the  place  where  the 
nasal  sound  seemed  to  issue  from,  and  soon  reached  the  post  • 
of  a bed.  I waited  for  an  instant,  and  then  began  : 

u Monsieur,  voulez-vous  bien  me  permettre ” 

“ As  to  short  whist  I never  could  make  it  out,  so  there  is 
an  end  of  it,”  said  my  unknown  friend,  in  a low,  husky  voice 
which,  strangely  enough,  was  not  totally  unfamiliar  to  me  : 
but  when  or  how  I had  heard  it  before  I could  not  then 
think. 

Well,  thought  I,  he  is  an  Englishman,  at  all  events,  so  l 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


*S? 


hope  his  patriotism  may  forgive  my  intrusion,  so  here  goes 
once  more  to  rouse  him,  though  he  seems  a confoundedly 
heavy  sleeper.  “ I beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  unfortunately, 
in  a point  like  the  present,  perhaps ” 

“ Well,  do  you  mark  the  points,  and  I’ll  score  the  rubber,” 
said  he. 

“ The  devil  take  the  gambling  fellow’s  dreaming,”  thought 
I,  raising  my  voice  at  the  same  time. 

“ Perhaps  a cold  night,  sir,  may  suffice  as  my  apology.” 

“ Cold,  oh,  ay  ! put  a hot  poker  in  it,”  muttered  he  ; “a 
hot  poker,  a little  sugar,  and  a piece  of  nutmeg — nothing  else 
— then  it’s  delicious.” 

“ Upon  my  soul,  this  is  too  bad,”  said  I to  myself.  “ Let 
us  see  what  shaking  will  do.  Sir,  sir,  I shall  feel  obliged 
by ” 

“ Well,  there,  don’t  shake  me,  and  I’ll  tell  you  where  I hid 
the  cigars — they  are  under  my  straw  hat  in  the  window.” 

“ Well,  really,”  thought  I,  “if  this  gentleman’s  confessions 
were  of  an  interesting  nature,  this  might  be  good  fun ; but 
as  the  night  is  cold,  I mjust  shorten  the  ‘ seance,’  so  here 
goes  for  one  effort  more.” 

“ If,  sir,  you  could  kindly  spare  me  even  a small  portion 
of  your  bed-clothes.” 

“ No,  thank  you,  no  more  wine  ; but  I’ll  sing  with  pleasure  : ” 
and  here  the  wretch,  in  something  like  the  voice  of  a frog 
with  the  quinsy,  began,  “ * I’d  mourn  the  hopes  that  leave 
me.’”  “You  shall  mourn  something  els£  for  the  same 
reason,”  said  I,  as,  losing  all  patience,  I seized  quilt  and 
blankets  by  the  corner,  and  with  one  vigorous  pull  wrenched 
them  from  the  bed,  and  darted  from  the  room — in  a second  I 
was  in  the  corridor,  trailing  my  spoil  behind — which,  in  my 
haste,  I had  not  time  to  collect  in  a bundle.  I flew  rather 
than  ran  along  the  passage,  reached  the  stairs,  and  in  another 
minute  had  reached  the  second  gallery,  but  not  before  I heard 
the  slam  of  a door  behind  me,  and  the  same  instant  the  foot- 
steps of  a person  running  along  the  corridor,  who  could  be 
no  other  than  my  pursuer,  effectually  aroused  by  my  last 
appeal  to  his  charity.  I darted  along  the  dark  and  narrow 
passage  ; but  soon,  to  my  horror,  discovered  that  I must  have 
/ passed  the  door  of  my  chamber,  for  I had  reached  the  foot 
of  a narrow  back  stair,  which  led  to  the  grenier  and  the  serv- 
ants’ rooms,  beneath  the  roof.  To  turn  now  only  would  have 
led  me  plump  in  the  face  of  my  injured  countryman,  of  whose 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


258 

thew  and  sinew  I was  perfectly  ignorant,  and  did  not  much 
like  to  venture  upon.  There  was  little  time  for  reflection, 
for  he  had  now  reached  the  top  of  the  stair,  and  was  evi- 
dently listening  for  some  clew  to  guide  him  on  ; stealthily  and 
silently,  and  scarcely  drawing  breath,  I mounted  the  narrow 
stairs,  step  by  step,  but  before  I had  arrived  at  the  landing, 
he  heard  the  rustle  of  the  bed-clothes,  and  again  gave  chase. 
There  was  something  in  the  unrelenting  ardor  of  his  pur- 
suit which  suggested  to  my  mind  the  idea  of  a most  uncom- 
promising foe  ; and  as  fear  added  speed  to  my  steps,  I dashed 
along  beneath  the  low-roofed  passage,  wondering  what  chance 
of  escape  would  yet  present  itself.  Just  at  this  instant,  the 
hand  by  which  I had  guided  myself  along  the  wall  touched 
the  handle  of  a door — I turned  it — it  opened — I drew  in  my 
precious  bundle,  and  closing  the  door  noiselessly,  sat  down, 
breathless  and  still,  upon  the  floor. 

Scarcely  was  this,  the  work  of  a second,  accomplished, 
when  the  heavy  tread  of  my  pursuer  resounded  on  the 
floor. 

“ Upon  my  conscience,  it’s  strange  if  I haven’t  you  now, 
my  friend,”  said  he  ; “ you’re  in  a cul  de  sac  here,  as  they 
say,  if  I know  anything  of  the  house  ; and  faith  I’ll  make  a 
salad  of  you,  when  I get  you,  that’s  all.  Devil  a dirtier  trick 
ever  I heard  tell  of.” 

Need  I say  that  these  words  had  the  true  smack  of  an 
Irish  accent,  which  circumstance,  from  whatever  cause,  did 
not  by  any  means  tend  to  assuage  my  fears  in  the  event  of 
discovery. 

However,,  from  such  a misfortune  my  good  genius  now 
delivered  n>*. ; for  after  traversing  the  passage  to  the  end,  he 
at  last  discovered  another,  which  led  by  a long  flight  to  the 
second  story,  down  which  he  proceeded,  venting  at  every 
step  his  determination  for  vengeance  and  his  resolution  not  to 
desist  from  the  pursuit,  if  it  took  the  entire  night  for  it. 

‘‘  Well  now,”  thought  I,  “ as  he  will  scarcely  venture  up 
here  again,  and  as  I may,  by  leaving  this,  be  only  incurring 
the  risk  of  encountering  him,  my  best  plan  is  to  stay  where 
I am,  if  it  be  possible.”  With  this  intent  I proceeded  to 
explore  the  apartment,  which  from  its  perfect  stillness  I con- 
cluded to  be  unoccupied.  After  some  few  minutes’  groping 
I reached  a low  bed,  fortunately  empty,  and  although  the 
touch  the  bed-clothes  led  to  no  very  favorable  augury  of 
its  newness  or  elegance,  there  was  little  choice  at  this  mo* 


/ TARRY  LORkEQUER . 


2S9 

mcnt,  so  I rolled  myself  up  in  my  recent  booty,  and  resolved 
to  wait  patiently  for  daybreak  to  regain  my  apartment. 

As  always  happens  in  such  circumstances,  sleep  came  on 
me  unawares — so  at  least  every  one’s  experience  I am  sure 
can  testify,  that  if  you  are  forced  to  wake  early  to  start  by 
some  morning  coach,  and  that  unfortunately  you  have  not  got 
to  bed  till  late  at  night,  the  chances  are  ten  td  one  that  you 
get  no  sleep  whatever,  simply  because  you  are  desirous  for 
it ; but  make  up  your  mind  ever  so  resolutely  that  you’ll  not 
sleep,  and  whether  your  determination  be  built  on  motives  of 
propriety,  duty,  convenience,  or  health,  and  the  chances  are 
just  as  strong  that  you  are  sound  and  snoring  before  ten 
minutes.  How  many  a man  has  found  it  impossible,  with 
every  effort  of  his  heart  and  brain  aiding  his  good  wishes, 
to  sit  with  unclosed  eyes  and  ears  through  a dull  sermon  in 
the  dog-days  ; how  many  an  expectant  longing  heir  has 
yielded  to  the  drowsy  influence  when  endeavoring  to  look 
contrite  under  the  severe  correction  of  a lecture  on  extrava- 
gance from  his  uncle.  Who  has  not  felt  the  irresistible  ten- 
dency to  “ drop  off  ” in  the  half-hour  before  dinner  at  a stupid 
country  house  ? I need  not  catalogue  the  thousand  other 
situations  in  life  infinitely  more  “ sleep-compelling  ” than 
morphine,  for  myself ; my  pleasantest  and  soundest  moments 
of  perfect  forgetfulness  of  this  dreary  world  and  all  its  cares 
have  been  taken  on  an  oaken  bench,  seated  bolt  upright  and 
vis  a vis  to  a lecturer  on  botany,  whose  calming  accents, 
united  with  the  softened  light  of  an  autumnal  day,  piercing 
its  difficult  rays  through  the  narrow  and  cob  webbed  windows, 
the  odor  of  the  recent  plants  and  flowers  aiding  and  abetting, 
all  combined  to  steep  the  soul  in  sleep,  and  you  sank  by  im- 
perceptible and  gradual  steps  into  that  state  of  easy  slumber 
in  which  “come  no  dreams,”  and  the  last  sounds  of  the 
lecturer’s  “ hypogenous  and  perigenous  t died  away,  becom- 
ing beautifully  less,  till  your  senses  sank  into  rest,  the  syllables 
“ rigging  us,  rigging  us  ” seemed  to  melt  away  in  the  distance 

and  fade  from  your  memory Peace  be  with  you,  Dr. 

A.  If  I owe  gratitude  anywhere,  I have  my  debt  with  you. 
The  very  memory  I bear  of  you  has  saved  me  no  inconsider- 
able sum  in  hop  and  henbane.  Without  any  assistance  from 
the  sciences  on  the  present  occasion,  I was  soon  asleep,  and 
woke  not  till  the  cracking  of  whips  and  the  trampling  of 
horses’  feet  on  the  pavement  of  the  coach-yard  apprised  me 
that  the  world  had  risen  to  its  daily  labor,  and  so  should  I, 


s6o 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


From  the  short  survey  of  my  present  chamber,  which  I took 
on  waking,  I conjectured  it  must  have  been  the  den  of  some 
of  the  servants  of  the  house  upon  occasion — two  low  truckle- 
beds  of  the  meanest  description  lay  along  the  wall  opposite 
to  mine  ; one  of  them  appeared  to  have  been  slept  in  during 
the  past  night,  but  by  what  species  of  animal  the  Fates  alone 
can  tell.  An  old  demi-peak  saddle,  capped  and  tipped  with 
brass,  some  rusty  bits  and  stray  stirrup-irons,  lay  here  and 
there  upon  the  floor  ; while  upon  a species  of  clothes-rack, 
attached  to  a rafter,  hung  a tarnished  suit  of  postilion’s  livery, 
cap,  jacket,  leathers,  jack-boots,  all  ready  for  use  ; and 
evidently  from  their  arrangement  supposed  by  the  owner  to 
be  rather  a creditable  “ turn-out.” 

I turned  over  these  singular  habiliments  with  much  of  the 
curiosity  with  which  an  antiquary  would  survey  a suit  of 
chain  armor,  the  long  epaulets  of  yellow  cotton  cord,  the 
heavy  belt,  with  its  brass  buckle,  the  cumbrous  boots,  plaited 
and  bound  with  iron  like  churns,  were  in  rather  a ludicrous 
contrast  to  the  equipment  of  our  light  and  jockey-like  boys, 
in  nankeen  jackets  and  neat  tops,  that  spin  along  over  our 
level  “ macadam.” 

“ But,”  thought  I,  “ it  is  full  time  I should  get  back  to  No. 
8 2,  and  make  my  appearance  below  stairs  ; ” though  in  what 
part  of  the  building  my  room  lay,  and  how  I was  to  reach  it 
without  my  clothes,  I had  not  the  least  idea.  A blanket  is  an 
excessively  comfortable  article  of  wearing  apparel  when  in 
bed,  but  as  a walking  costume  is  by  no  means  convenient  or 
appropriate,  while  to  making  a sortie  en  sauvage , however  ap- 
propriate during  the  night,  there  were  many  serious  objections 
if  done  “ en  plein  jour”  and  with  the  whole  establishment 
awake  and  active.  The  noise  of  mopping,  scrubbing,  and 
polishing,  which  is  eternally  going  forward  in  a foreign  inn, 
amply  testified  there  was  nothing  which  I could  adopt  in  my 
present  naked  and  forlorn  condition  save  the  bizarre  and 
ridiculous  dress  of  the  postilion,  and  I need  not  say  the 
thought  of  so  doing  presented  nothing  agreeable.  I looked 
from  the  narrow  window  out  upon  the  tiled  roof,  but  without 
any  prospect' of  being  heard  if  I called  ever  so  loudly. 

The  infernal  noise  of  floor  cleansing,  assisted  by  a Norman 
peasant's  “ chanson  du  pays,”  the  time  being  well  marked  by 
her  heavy  sabots,  gave  even  less  chance  to  me  within  ; so  that 
after  more  than  half  an  hour  passed  in  weighing  difficulties 
and  canvassing  plans,  upon  donning  the  blue  and  yellow,  and 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


261 


getting  out  for  my  own  room  without  delay,  hoping  sincerely 
that,  with  proper  precaution,  I should  be  afyle  to  reach  it 
unseen  and.  unobserved. 

As  I laid  but  little  stress  upon  the  figure  I should  make 
in  my  new  habiliments,  it  did  not  cause  me  much  morti- 
fication to  find  that  the  clothes  were  considerably  too  small, 
the  jacket  scarcely  coming  beneath  my  arms  and  the  sleeves 
being  so  short  that  my  hands  and  wrists  projected  beyond 
the  cuffs  like  two  enormous  claws,  the  leathers  were  also 
limited  in  their  length,  and  when  ’drawn  up  to  a proper 
height,  permitted  my  knees  to  be  seen  beneath  like  the  short 
costume  of  a Spanish  Tauridor,  but  scarcely  as  graceful; 
not  wishing  to  encumber  myself  in  the  heavy  and  noisy 
masses  of  wood,  iron,  and  leather  they  call  “les  bottes 
fortes/’  I slipped  my  feet  into  my  slippers,  and  stole  gently 
from  the  room.  How  I must  have  looked  at  the  moment  I 
leave  my  reader  to  guess,  as  with  anxious  and  stealthy  pace 
I crept  along  the  low  gallery  that  led  to  the  narrow  staircase, 
down  which  I proceeded,  step  by  step ; but  just  as  I reached 
the  bottom,  perceived  a little  distance  from  me,  with  her 
1 back  turned  toward  me,  a short,  squat  peasant  on  her  knees, 
laboring  with  a brush  the  well-waxed  floor  ; to  pass,  there- 
fore, unobserved,  was  impossible,  so  that  I did  not  hesitate 
to  address  her,  and  endeavor  to  interest  her  in  my  behalf, 
and  enlist  her  as  my  guide. 

“ Bonjour,  ma  chere,”  said  I,  in  a soft  insinuating  tone ; 
she  did  not  hear  me,  so  I repeated  : 

“ Bonjour,  ma  chere,  bonjour.” 

Upon  this  she  turned  round,  and  looking  fixedly  at  me 
for  a second,  called  out  in  a thick  patois,  “ Ah,  le  bon  Dieu  ! 
qu’il  est  drole  comme  ga,  Francis,  savez-vous,  mais  ce 
n’est  pas  Frangois,”  saying  which  she  sprang  from  her 
kneeling  position  to  her  feet,  and  with  a speed  that  her  shape 
and  sabots  seemed  little  to  promise,  rushed  down  the  stairs  as 
if  she  had  seen  the  devil  himself. 

“ Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  the  woman  ? ” said  I, 
“ surely  if  I am  not  Frangois — which,  God  be  thanked, 
is  true — yet  I cannot  look  so  frightful  as  all  this  would 
imply.  ” I had  not  much  time  given  me  for  consideration 
. now,  for  before  I had  well  deciphered  the  number  over  a 
door  before  me,  the  loud  noise  of  several  voices  on  the  floor 
beneath  attracted  my  attention,  and  the  moment  after  the 
heavy  tramp  of  feet  followed,  and  in  an  instant  the  gallery 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


was  thronged  by  the  men  and  women  of  the  house — waiters* 
hostlers,  cooks,  scullions,  filles  de  chambre,  mingled  with 
gendarmes,  peasants,  and  townspeople,  all  eagerly  forcing 
their  way  up  stairs  ; yet  all,  on  arriving  at  the  landing-place, 
seemed  disposed  to  keep  at  a respectful  distance,  and  bun- 
dling themselves  at  one  end  of  the  corridor,  while  I,  feel- 
ingly alive  to  the  ridiculous  appearance  I made,  occupied  the 
other — the  gravity  with  which  they  seemed  at  first  disposed 
to  regard  me  soon  gave  way,  and  peal  after  peal  of  laughter 
broke  out,  and  young  and  old,  men  and  women,  even  to  the 
most  farouche  gendarmes,  all  appearing  incapable  of  con- 
trolling the  desire  for  merriment  my  most  singular  figure 
inspired  ; and  unfortunately,  this  emotion  seemed  to  promise 
no  very  speedy  conclusion,  for  the  jokes  and  witticisms  made 
upon  my  appearance  threatened  to  renew  the  festivities,  aJ 
libitum. 

“ Regardez  done  ses  epaules,”  said  one. 

“ Ah,  mon  Dieu  ! II  me  fait  l’idee  d’une  grenouille  avec  ses 
jambes  jaunes,”  cried  another. 

“II  vaut  son  pesant  de  fromage  pour  un  Vaudeville, ” 
said  the  director  of  the  strolling  theatre  of  the  place. 

“I’ll  give  seventy  francs  a week,  ‘ d’appointement,’  and 
‘ Scribe  ’ shall  write  a piece  express  for  himself,  if  he’ll  take 
it.” 

“ May  the  devil  fly  away  with  your  grinning  baboon  faces,” 
said  I,  as  I rushed  up  the  stairs  again,  pursued  by  the  mob 
at  full  cry ; scarcely,  however,  had  I reached  the  top  step, 
when  the  rough  hand  of  the  gendarme  seized  me  by  the 
shoulder,  while  he  said  in  a low,  husky  voice,  “ e’est  inutile, 
monsieur,  you  cannot  escape — the  thing  was  well  contrived^ 
it  is  true  ; but  the  gendarmes  of  France  are  not  easily  out- 
witted, and  you  could  not  have  long  avoided  detection,  even 
in  that  dress.”  It  was  my  turn  to  laugh  now ; which,  to 
their  very  great  amazement,  I did,  loud  and  long,  that  I 
should  have  thought  my  present  costume  could  ever  have 
been  the  means  of  screening  me  from  observation,  however 
it  might  have  been  calculated  to  attract  it,  was  rather  too 
absurd  a supposition  even  for  the  mayor  of  a village  to 
entertain  ; besides,  it  only  now  occurred  to  me  that  I was 
figuring  in  the  character  of  a prisoner.  The  continued  peals 
of  laughing  which  this  mistake  on  their  part  elicited  from 
me  seemed  to  afford  but  slight  pleasure  to  my  captor,  who 
gruffly  said  : 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER.  2 63 

“ When  you  have  done  amusing  yourself,  mon  ami,  perhaps 
you  will  do  us  the  favor  to  come  before  the  mayor.” 

“ Certainly,”  I replied  ; 44  but  you  will  first  permit  me  to 
resume  my  own  clothes,  I am  quite  sick  of  masquerading 
4 en  postilion ” 

44  Not  so  fast,  my  friend,”  said  the  suspicious  old  follower 
of  Fouche — 44  not  so  fast ; it  is  but  right  the  maire  should  see 
you  in  the  disguise  you  attempted  your  escape  in.  It  must 
be  especially  mentioned  in  the  proces  verbal .” 

44  Well,  this  is  becoming  too  ludicrous,”  said  I.  44  It  need 
not  take  five  minutes  to  satisfy  you  why,  how,  and  where  I 
put  on  these  confounded  rags ” 

44  Then  tell  it  to  the  maire  at  the  Bureau.” 

44  But  for  that  purpose  it  is  not  necessary  I should  be 
conducted  through  the  streets  in  broad  day,  to  be  laughed 
at.  No,  positively,  Fll  not  go.  In  my  own  dress,  I’ll  ac- 
company you  with  pleasure.” 

44  Victor,  Henri,  Guillaume,”  said  the  gendarme,  address- 
ing his  companions,  who  immediately  closed  round  me. 
44  You  see,”  added  he,  44  there  is  no  use  in  resisting.” 

Need  I recount  my  own  shame  and  ineffable  disgrace  ? 
Alas  ! it  is  too,  too  true.  Harry  Lorrequer — whom  Stultze 
entreated  to  wear  his  coats,  the  ornament  of  Hyde  Park,  the 
last  appeal  in  dress,  fashion,  and  equipage — was  obliged  to 
parade  through  the  mob  of  a market  town  in  France,  with 
four  gendarmes  for  his  companions,  and  he  himself  habited 
in  a mongrel  character — half  postilion,  half  Delaware  Indian. 
The  incessant  yells  of  laughter,— the  screams  of  the  children, 
and  the  outpouring  of  every  species  of  sarcasm  and  ridicule, 
at  my  expense,  were  not  all,  for  as  I emerged  from  the  portc 
cocfiere , I saw  Isabella  in  the  window  ; her  eyes  were  red 
with  weeping ; but  no  sooner  had  she  beheld  me,  than  she 
broke  out  into  a fit  of  laughter,  that  was  audible  even  in  the 
street. 

Rage  had  now  taken  such  a hold  upon  me,  that  I forgot 
my  ridiculous  appearance  in  my  thirst  for  vengeance.  I 
marched  on  through  the  grinning  crowd,  with  the  step  of  a 
martyr.  I suppose* my  heroic  bearing  and  warlike  deport- 
ment must  have  heightened  the  drollery  of  the  scene ; for 
the  devils  only  laughed  the  more.  The  bureau  of  the  maire 
could  not  contain  one-tenth  of  the  anxious  and  curious  in- 
dividuals who  thronged  the  .^entrance,  and  for  about  twenty 
minutes  the  whole  efforts  of  the  gendarmes  were  little  enough 


264 


HA RRY  L ORREQ UER. 


to  keep  order  and  maintain  silence.  At  length  the  main 
made  his  appearance,  and  accustomed  as  he  had  been  for  a 
long  life  to  scenes  of  an  absurd  and  extraordinary  nature, 
yet  the  ridicule  of  my  look  and  costume  was  too  much,  and 
he  laughed  outright.  This  was  of  course  the  signal  for 
renewed  mirth  for  the  crowd,  while  those  without  doors, 
infected  by  the  example,  took  up  the  jest,  and  I had  the 
pleasure  of  a short  calculation,  a la  Babbage , of  how  many 
maxillary  jaws  were  at  that  same  moment  wagging  at  my 
expense. 

However,  the  examination  commenced ; and  I at  length 
obtained  an  opportunity  of  explaining  under  what  circum- 
stances I had  left  my  room,  and  how  and  why  I had  been 
induced  to  don  this  confounded  cause  of  all  my  misery. 

“ This  may  be  very  true,”  said  the  maire , “as  it  is  very 
plausible  ; if  you  have  evidence  to  prove  what  you  have 
stated ” 

“ If  it’s  evidence  only  is  wanting,  Mr.  Maire,  I’ll  confirm 
one  part  of  the  story,”  said  a voice  in  the  crowd,  in  an  accent 
and  tone  that  assured  me  the  speaker  was  the  injured  pro- 
prietor of  the  stolen  blankets.  I turned  round  hastily  to 
look  at  my  victim,  and  what  was  my  surprise  to  recognize  a 
very  old  Dublin  acquaintance,  Mr.  Fitzmaurice  O’Leary. 

“ Good  morning,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  he  ; “ this  is  mighty 
like  our  old  practices  in  College  Green;  but,  upon  my  con- 
science, the  maire  has  the  advantage  of  Gabbet.  It’s  lucky 
for  you  I know  his  worship,  as  we’d  call  him  at  home,  or  this 
might  be  a serious  business.  Nothing  would  persuade  them 
that  you  were  not  Lucien  Buonaparte,  or  the  iron  mask,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  if  they  took  it  into  their  heads.” 

Mr.  O’Leary  was  as  good  as  his  word.  In  a species  of 
French,  that  I’d  venture  to  say  would  be  perfectly  intelligible 
in  Mullingar,  he  contrived  to  explain  to  the  maire  that  I was 
neither  a runaway  nor  a swindler,  but  a very  old  friend  of 
his,  and  consequently  sans  reproche.  The  official  was  now 
as  profuse  of  his  civilities  as  he  had  before  been  of  his  sus-  ' 
picions,  and  most  hospitably  pressed  us  to  stay  for  breakfast. 
This,  for  many  reasons,  I was  obliged  to  decline — not  the 
least  of  which  was  my  impatience  to  get  out  of  my  present 
costume.  We  accordingly  procured  a carriage,  and  I re- 
turned to  the  hotel,  screened  from  the  gaze,  but  still  accom- 
panied by  the  shouts  of  the  mob,  who  evidently  took  a most 
lively  interest  in  the  entire  proceeding. 


HARR V L ORREQUER. 


265 

I lost  no  time  in  changing  my  costume,  and  was  about  to 
descend  to  the  saloon  when  the  master  of  the  house  came  to 
inform  me  that  Mrs.  Bingham’s  courier  had  arrived  with  the 
carriage,  and  that  she  expected  us  at  Amiens  as  soon  as 
possible. 

“That  is  all 'right.  Now,  Mr.  O’Leary,  I must  pray  you 
to  forgive  all  the  liberty  I have  taken  with  you,  and  also  per- 
mit me  to  defer  the  explanation  of  many  circumstances  which 
seem  at  present  strange,  till ” 

“ Till  sine  die , if  the  story  be  a long  one,  my  dear  sir — 
there’s  nothing  I hate  so  much,  except  cold  punch.” 

“ You  are  going  to  Paris,”  said  I ; “is  it  not  so  ? ” 

“ Yes,  I’m  thinking  of  it.  I was  up  at  Trolhatten,  in  Nor- 
way, three  weeks  ago,  and  I was  obliged  to  leave  it  hastily, 
for  I’ve  an  appointment  with  a friend  in  Geneva.” 

“ Then  how  do  you  travel  ? ” 

“On  foot,  just  as  you  see,  except  that  I’ve  a tobacco  bag 
upstairs,  and  an  umbrella.” 

“ Light  equipment,  certainly  ; but  you  must  allow  me  to 
give  you  a set  down  as  far  as  Amiens,  and  also  to  present 
you  to  my  friends  there.” 

To  this  Mr.  O’Leary  made  no  objection ; and  as  Miss 
Bingham  could  not  bear  any  delay,  in  her  anxiety  to  join  her 
mother,  we  set  out  at  once — the  only  thing  to  mar  my  full 
enjoyment  at  the  moment  being  the  sight  of  the  identical 
vestments  I had  so  lately  figured  in,  bobbing  up  and  down 
before  my  eyes  for  the  whole  length  of  the  stage,  and  leading 
to  innumerable  mischievous  allusions  from  my  friend  Mr. 
O’Leary,  which  were  far  too  much  relished  by  my  fair  com- 
panion. 

At  twelve  we  arrived  at  Amiens,  when  I presented  my 
friend  Mr.  O’Leary  to  Mrs.  Bingham. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MR.  O’LEARY. 

At  the  conclusion  of  my  last  chapter,  I was  about  to  in- 
troduce to  my  reader’s  acquaintance  my  friend  Mr.  O’Leary  ; 
and,  as  he  is  destined  to  occupy  some  place  in  the  history  of 
these  Confessions,  I may,  perhaps,  be  permitted  to  do  so  at 


2 66  HARRY  LORREQUER. 

more  length  than  his  intrinsic  merit  at  first  sight  might  appear 
to  warrant. 

Mr.  O’Leary  was,  and  I am  induced  to  believe  is,  a par- 
ticularly short,  fat,  greasy-looking  gentleman,  with  a head  as 
free  from  phrenological  development  as  a billiard-ball,  and  a 
countenance  which,  in  feature  and  color,  nearly  resembled 
the  face  of  a cherub,  carved  in  oak,  as  we  see  them  in  old 
pulpits. 

Short  as  is  his  stature,  his  limbs  compose  the  least  part  of 
it.  His  hands  and  feet,  forming  some  compensation  by  their 
ample  proportions,  give  to  his  entire  air  and  appearance  some- 
what the  look  of  a small  fish,  with  short,  thick  fins,  vulgarly 
called  a cobbler’s  thumb.  His  voice,  varying  in  cadence 
from  a deep  baritone  to  a high  falsetto,  maintains  through- 
out the  distinctive  characteristic  of  a Dublin  accent  and 
pronunciation,  and  he  talks  of  the  “ veel  of  Ovoca,  and  a 
beef -steck”  with  some  pride  of  intonation.  What  part  of  the 
island  he  came  originally  from,  or  what  may  be  his  age,  are 
questions  I have  the  most  profound  ignorance  of ; I have 
heard  many  anecdotes  which  would  imply  his  being  what  the 
French  call  “ d’un  age  mur” — but  his  own  observations  are 
generally  limited  to  events  occurring  since  the  peace  of 
“ fifteen.”  To  his  personal  attractions,  such  as  they  are,  he 
has  never  been  solicitous  of  contributing  by  the  meretricious 
aids  of  dress.  His  coat,  calculating  from  its  length  of  waist 
and  ample  skirt,  would  fit  Dumbo  Green,  while  his  trousers, 
being  made  of  some  cneap  and  shrinking  material,  have 
gradually  contracted  their  limits  and  look  now  exactly  like 
knee-breeches,  without  the  usual  buttons  at  the  bottom. 

These,  with  the  addition  of  a pair  of  green  spectacles,  the 
glass  of  one  being  absent,  and  permitting  the  lookout  of  a 
sharp  gray  eye,  twinkling  with  drollery  and  good  humor,  j 
form  the  most  palpable  of  his  externals.  In  point  of  char- 
acter they  who  best  knew  him  represented  him  as  the  best- 
tempered,  best-hearted  fellow  breathing;  ever  ready  to  assist 
a friend,  and  always  postponing  his  own  plans  and  his  own 
views,  when  he  had  any,  to  the  wishes  and  intentions  of 
others.  Among  the  many  odd  things  about  him  was  a con-  - 
stant  preference  for  travelling  on  foot,  and  a great  pas-  ■ 
sion  for  living  abroad,  both  of  which  tastes  he  gratified, 
although  his  size  might  seem  to  offer  obstacles  to  the  one, 
and  his  total  ignorance  of  every  continental  language  would 
appear  to  preclude  the  other ; with  a great  liking  for  tobacco, 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


267 

which  he  smoked  all  day — a fondness  for  whist  and  malt 
liquors — his  antipathies  were  few;  so  that,  except  when 
called  upon  to  shave  more  than  once  in  the  week,  or  wash 
his  hands  twice  on  the  same  day,  it  was  difficult  to  dis- 
concert him.  His  fortune  was  very  ample ; but  although 
his  mode  of  living  was  neither  very  ostentation^  nor  costly, 
he  contrived  always  to  spend  his  income.  Such  was  the 
gentleman  I now  presented  to  my  friends,  who,  I must  con- 
fess, appeared  strangely  puzzled  by  his  manner  and  appear- 
ance. This  feeling,  however,  soon  wore  off  ; and  before  he 
had  spent  the  morning  in  their  company,  he  had  made  more 
way  in  their  good  graces,  and  gone  further  to  establish  in- 
timacy, than  many  a more  accomplished  person,  with  an  un- 
exceptionable coat  and  accurate  whisker,  might  have  effected 
in  a fortnight.  What  were  his  gifts  in  this  way  I am,  alas  ! 
most  deplorably  ignorant  of;  it  was  not,  Heaven  knows, 
that  he  possessed  any  conversational  talent — of  successful 
flattery  he  knew  as  much  as  a negro  does  of  the  national 
debt,  and  yet  the  Bonhomie  of  his  character  seemed  to  tell 
at  once ; and  Lmever  knew  him  fail  in  any  one  instance  to 
establish  an  interest  for  himself  before  he  had  completed 
the  ordinary  period  of  a visit. 

I think  it  is  Washington  Irving  who  has  so  admirably 
depicted  the  mortification  of  a dandy  angler,  who,  with  his 
beaver  garnished  with  brown  hackles,  his  \v"ell-poised  rod, 
polished  gaff,  and  handsome  landing-net,  with  everything 
1 befitting,  spends  his  long  summer  day  whipping  a trout  stream 
without  a rise  or  even  a ripple  to  reward  him,  while  a ragged 
urchin,  with  a willow  wand  and  a bent  pin,  not  ten  yards 
distant,  is  covering  the  greensward  with  myriads  of  speckled 
and  scaly  backs,  from  one  pound  weight  to  four ; so  it  is  in 
everything — “the  race  is  not  to  the  swift ;”  the  elements  of 
success  in  life,  whatever  be  the  object  of  pursuit,  are  very, 
very  different  from  what  we  think  of  them  at  first  sight,  and 
so  it  was  with  Mr.  O’Leary ; and  I have  more  than  once 
witnessed  the  triumph  of  his  homely  manner  and  blunt  humor 
over  the  more  polished  and  well-bred  taste  of  his  competi 
tors  for  favor;  and  what  might  have  been  the  limit  to 
such  success  Heaven  alone  can  tell,  if  it  were  not  that  he 
labored  under  a counterbalancing  infirmity,  sufficient  to 
have  swamped  a line-of-battle  ship  itself.  It  was  simply  this 
— a most  unfortunate  propensity  to  talk  of  the  wrong  place, 
person,  or  time,  in  any  society  he  found  himself ; and  this 


268 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


taste  for  the  mal-a-propos  extended  so  far,  that  no  one  eve? 
ventured  into  company  with  him  as  his  friend,  without 
trembling  for  the  result,  but  even  this,  I believe  his  only 
fault,  resulted  from  the  natural  goodness  of  his  character 
and  intentions ; for  believing  as  he  did,  in  his  honest  sim- 
plicity, that  the  arbitrary  distinctions  of  class  and  rank  were 
held  as  cheaply  by  others  as  by  himself,  he  felt  small  scruple 
at  recounting  to  a duchess  a scene  in  a cabaret,  and  with  as 
little  hesitation  would  he,  if  asked,  have  sung  the  “ Cruiskeen 
Lawn”  or  the  “Jug  of  Punch,”  after  Leblanche  had  finished 
the  “ A Idea,”  from  Figaro.  Mauvaise  honte  he  had  none  ; 
indeed,  I am  not  sure  he  had  any  kind  of  shame  whatever, 
except  possibly  when  detected  with  a coat  that  bore  any 
appearance  of  newness,  or  if  ever  persuaded  to  wear  gloves, 
which  he  ever  considered  as  a special  effeminacy. 

Such,  in  a few  words,  was  the  gentleman  I now  presented 
to  my  friends,  and  how  far  he  insinuated  himself  into  their 
good  graces  let  the  fact  tell,  that  on  my  return  to  the  break- 
fast-room,  after  about  an  hour's  absence,  I heard  him  detail- 
ing the  particulars  of  a route  they  were  to  take  by  his  advice, 
and  also  learned  that  he  had  been  offered  and  had  accepted 
a seat  in  their  carriage  to  Paris. 

“ Then  I'll  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  joining  your  party,  < 
Mrs.  Bingham,”  said  he.  “ Bingham,  I think,  madam,  is 
your  name.” 

“Yes,  sir.” 

“Any  relation,  may  I ask,  of  a most  dear  friend  of  mine,  < 
of  the  same  name,  from  Currynaslattery,  in  the  county 
Wexfiprd  ? ” 

“I  am  really  not  aware,”  said  Mrs.  Bingham.  “My  * 
husband’s  family  are,  I believe,  many  of  them  from  that 
county.” 

“ Ah,  what  a pleasant  fellow  was  Tom  ! ” said  Mr.  O’Leary, 
musingly,  and  with  that  peculiar  tone  which  made  me  tremble, 
for  I knew  that  a reminiscence  was  coming.  “ A pleasant  • 
fellow,  indeed.” 

“ Is  he  alive,  sir,  now  ? ” 

“ I believe  so,  ma’am  ; but  I hear  the  climate  does  not  agree  ? 
with  him.” 

“ Ah,  then,  he’s  abroad  ! In  Italy,  probably  ?” 

“ No,  ma’am,  in  Botany  Bay.  His  brother,  they  say,  * 
might  have  saved  him,  but  he  left  poor  Tom  to  his  fate  ; for  -f 
fie  was  just  then  paying  his  court  to  a Miss  Crow,  I think,  | 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


269 

With  a large  fortune.  Oh,  Lord,  what  have  I said  ? — it’s 
always  the  luck  of  me  ! ” The  latter  exclamation  was  the 
result  of  a heavy  saugh  upon  the  floor,  Mrs.  Bingham  having 
fallen  in  a faint — she  being  the  identical  lady  alluded  to,  and 
her  husband  the  brother  of  pleasant  Tom  Bingham. 

To  hurl  Mr.  O’Leary  out  of  the  room  by  one  hand,  and 
ring  the  bell  with  the  other,  was  the  work  of  a moment ; and 
with  proper  care,  and  in  due  time,  Mrs.  Bingham  was  brought 
to  herself,  when,  most  fortunately,  she  entirely  forgot  the 
cause  of  her  sudden  indisposition ; and  of  course  neither 
her  daughter  nor  myself  suffered  any  clew  to  escape  us  which 
might  lead  to  its  discovery. 

When  we  were  once  more  upon  the  road,  to  efface,  if  it 
might  be  necessary,  any  unpleasant  recurrence  to  the  late 
scene,  I proceeded  to  give  Mrs.  Bingham  an  account  of  my 
adventure  at  Chantraine,  in  which,  of  course,  I endeavored 
to  render  my  friend  O’Leary  all  the  honors  of  being  laughed 
at  in  preference  to  myself,  laying  little  stress  upon  my  mas- 
querading in  the  jack-boots. 

“ You  are  quite  right,”  said  O’Leary,  joining  in  the  hearty 
laugh  against  him,  “ quite  right ; I was  always  a very  heavy 
sleeper — indeed,  if  I wasn’t,  I wouldn’t  be  here  now,  travel- 
ling about  en  gar f on,  free  as  air  here  he  heaved  a sigh, 
which,  from  its  incongruity  with  his  jovial  look  and  happy 
expression,  threw  us  all  into  renewed  laughter. 

“ But  why,  Mr.  O’Leary — what  can  your  sleepiness  have 
to  do  with  such  tender  recollections,  for  such,  I am  sure,  that 
sigh  bespeaks  them  ? ” 

“ Ah  ! ma’am,  it  may  seem  strange,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
true,  if  it  were  not  for  that  unfortunate  tendency,  I should  now 
be  the  happy  possessor  of  a most  accomplished  and  amiable 
lady,  and  eight  hundred  per  annum  three  and  a half  per  cent, 
stock.” 

“ You  overslept  yourself  on  the  wedding-day,  I suppose.” 

“You  shall  hear,  ma’am;  the  story  is  a very  short  one. 
It  is  now  about  eight  years  ago,  I was  rambling  through  the 
south  of  France,  and  had  just  reached  Lyons,  where  the 
confounded  pavement  that  sticks  up  like  spears,  with  the 
point  upward,  had  compelled  me  to  rest  some  days  and 
recruit ; for  this  purpose  I installed  myself  in  the  pension  of 
Madame  Gourgead,  Rue  de  Petits  Cannes,  a quiet  house — ■ 
where  we  dined  at  twelve,  ten  in  number,  upon  about  two 
pounds  of  stewed  beef,  with  garlic  and  carrots — a light  soup, 


tjo  HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 

being  the  water  which  accompanied  the  same,  to  render  it 
tender  in  stewing — some  preserved  cherries,  and  an  omelet, 
with  a pint  bottle  of  Beaune,  6me  qualite,  I believe — a 
species  of  pyroligneous  wine  made  from  the  vine  stalks,  but 
pleasant  in  summer  with  your  salad  ; then  we  played  dom- 
inoes in  the  evening,  or  whist  for  sous  points,  leading  alto- 
gether a very  quiet  and  virtuous  existence,  or,  as  Madame 
herself  expressed  it,  4 une  vie  tout-a-fait  patriarchate  ; ’ of  this 
I cannot  myself  affirm  how  far  she  was  right  in  supposing  the 
patriarchs  did  exactly  like  us.  But  to  proceed,  in  the  same 
establishment  there  lived  a widow  whose  late  husband  had 
been  a wine  merchant  at  Dijon — he  had  also,  I suppose,  from 
residing  in  that  country,  been  imitating’  the  patriarchs,  for  he 
died  one  day.  Well,  the  lady  was  delayed  at  Lyons  for  some 
law  business,  and  thus  it  came  about  that  her  husband’s  tes- 
tament and  the  sharp  paving  stones  in  the  streets  determined 
we  should  be  acquainted.  I cannot  express  to  you  the 
delight  of  my  fair  countrywoman  at  finding  that  a person 
who  spoke  English  had  arrived  at  the  pension — a feeling  I 
myself  somewhat  participated  in,  for,  to  say  truth,  I was  not 
at  that  time  a very  great  proficient  in  French.  We  soon  be- 
came intimate,  in  less  time  probably  than  it  would  otherwise 
have  happened,  for,  from  the  ignorance  of  all  the  others  of 
one  word  of  English,  I was  enabled  during  dinner  to  say 
many  soft  and  tender  things,  which  one  does  not  usually 
venture  on  in  company. 

“ I recounted  my  travels,  and  told  various  adventures  of 
my  wanderings,  till  at  last,  from  being  merely  amused,  I 
found  that  my  fair  friend  began  to  be  interested  in  my  nar- 
ratives ; and  frequently,  when  passing  the  bouillon  to  her,  I 
have  seen  a tear  in  the  corner  of  her  eye  ; in  a word,  ‘ she 
loved  me  for  the  dangers  I had  passed,’  as  Othello  says. 
Well,  laugh  away  if  you  like,  but  it’s  truth  I’m  telling  you.” 
At  this  part  of  Mr.  O’Leary’s  story  we  all  found  it  impossible 
to  withstand  the  ludicrous  mock  heroic  of  his  face  and  tone, 
and  laughed  loud  and  long.  When  we  at  length  became 
silent  he  resumed — “ Before  three  weeks  had  passed  over,  I 
had  proposed  and  was  accepted,  just  your  own  way,  Mr. 
Lorrequer,  taking  the  ball  at  the  hop,  the  very  same  way  you 
did  at  Cheltenham,  the  time  the  lady  jilted  you  and  ran  off 
with  your  friend  Mr.  Waller.  I read  it  all  in  the  news, 
though  I was  then  in  Norway  fishing.”  Here  there  was  an- 
other interruption  by  a laugh,  not,  however,  at  Mr.  O’Leary's 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


271 


expense.  I gave  him  a most  menacing  look,  while  he  com 
tinued — “The  settlements  were  soon  drawn  up,  and  con- 
sisted, like  all  great  diplomatic  documents,  of  a series  of 
‘ gains  and  compensations  ; ’ thus,  she  was  not  to  taste  any- 
thing stronger  than  kirsch  wasser,  or  Nantz  brandy;  and  I 
limited  myself  to  a pound  of  short-cut  weekly,  and  so  on  ; but 
to  proceed  : the  lady  being  a good  Catholic,  insisted  upon 
being  married  by  a priest  of  her  own  persuasion,  before  the 
performance  of  the  ceremony  at  the  British  Embassy  in  Paris; 
to  this  I could  offer  no  objection,  and  we  were  accordingly 
united  in  the  holy  bonds  the  same  morning,  after  signing  the 
law  papers.” 

“ Then,  Mr.  O’Leary,  you  are  really  a married  man  ? ” 

“ That’s  the  very  point  I’m  coming  to,  ma’am;  for  I have 
consulted  all  the  jurists  upon  the  subject,  and  they  never  can 
agree.  But  you  shall  hear.  I dispatched  a polite  note  to 
Bishop  Luscombe,  and  made  every  arrangement  for  the  ap- 
proaching ceremony,  took  a quarter  in  the  Rue  Helder,  near 
the  Estaminet,  and  looked  forward  with  anxiety  for  the  day 
which  was  to  make  me  happy ; for  our  marriage  in  Lyons 
was  only  a kind  of  betrothal.  Now,  my  fair  friend  had 
but  one  difficulty  remaining,  poor,  dear  soul — I refrain  from 
mentioning  her  name  for  delicacy’  sake,  but  poor  dear  Mrs. 
Ram  could  not  bear  the  notion  of  our  going  up  to  Paris  in 
the  same  conveyance,  for  long  as  she  had  lived  abroad,  she 
had  avoided  everything  French,  even  the  language ; so  she 
proposed  that  I should  go  in  the  early 4 diligence,’  which  starts 
at  four  o’clock  in  the  morning,  while  she  took  her  departure 
at  nine  ; thus  I should  be  some  hours  sooner  in  Paris,  and 
ready  to  receive  her  on  her  arriving  ; besides  sparing  her 
bashfulness  all  reproach  of  our  travelling  together.  It  was 
no  use  my  telling  her  that  I always  travelled  on  foot,  and 
hated  a ‘ diligence ; ’ she  coolly  replied  that  at  our  time  of 
life  we  could  not  spare  the  time  necessary  for  a pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem,  for  so  she  supposed  the  journey  from  Lyons  to 
Paris  to  be;  so,  fearing  lest  any  doubt  might  be  thrown 
upon  the  ardor  of  my  attachment,  I yielded  at  once,  re- 
membering at  the  moment  what  my  poor  friend  Tom  Bing 

Oh,  Lord,  I’m  at  it  again  ! ” 

“ Sir,  I did  not  hear.” 

“ Nothing,  ma’am.  I was  just  goingto  observe  that  ladies 
of  a certain  time  of  life,  and  especially  widows,  like  a lover 
that  seems  a little  ardent  or  so  all  the  better.”  Plere  Mrs. 


272 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


Bingham  blushed,  her  daughter  bridled,  and  I nearly  suffo- 
cated with  shame  and  suppressed  laughter. 

“ After  a most  tender  farewell  of  my  bride  or  wife,  I don’t 
know  which,  I retired  for  the  night,  with  a mind  vacillating 
between  my  hopes  of  happiness  and  my  fears  for  the  result 
of  a journey  so  foreign  to  all  my  habits  of  travelling,  and  in 
which  I could  not  but  tremble  at  the  many  casualties  my 
habitual  laziness  and  dislike  to  any  hours  but  of  my  own  choos- 
ing might  involve  me  in. 

“ I had  scarcely  laid  down  in  bed,  ere  these  thoughts  took 
such  possession  of  me,  that  sleep  for  once  in  my  life  was  out 
of  the  question  ; and  then  the  misery  of  getting  up  at  four  in 
the  morning — putting  on  your  clothes  by  the  flickering  light 
of  the  porter’s  candle — getting  your  boots  on  the  wrong  feet, 
and  all  that  kind  of  annoyance — I am  sure  I fretted  myself 
into  the  feeling  of  a downright  martyr  before  an  hour  was 
over.  Well,  at  least,  thought  I,  one  thing  is  well  done — 1 
have  been  quite  right  in  coming  to  sleep  here  at  the  Messa- 
gerie  Hotel,  where  the  diligence  starts  from,  or  the  chances 
are  t,en  to  one  that  I should  never  wake  till  the  time  was  past. 
Now,  however,  they  are  sure  to  call  me  ; so  I may  sleep  tran- 
quilly till  then.  Meanwhile  I had  forgotten  to  pack  my  trunk 
— my  papers,  etc.,  lying  all  about  the  room  in  a state  of  con- 
siderable confusion.  I rose  at  once  with  all  the  dispatch  I 
could  muster ; this  took  a long  time  to  effect,  and  it  was 
nearly  two  o’clock  ere  I finished,  and  sat  down  to  smoke  a 
solitary  pipe — the  last,  I supposed,  it  might  be  my  lot  to  en- 
joy for  heaven  knows  how  long,  Mrs.  R.  having  expressed, 
rather  late  in  our  intimacy,  I confess,  strong  opinions  against 
tobacco  within  doors. 

“ When  I had  finished  my  little  sac  of  the  ‘ weed,’  the  clock 
struck  three,  and  I started  to  think  how  little  time  I was  des- 
tined to  have  in  bad.  In  bed  ! why,  said  I,  there  is  no  use 
thinking  of  it  now^or  I shall  scarcely  have  lain  down  ere  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  get  up  again.  So  thinking,  I set  about 
dressing  myself  for  the  road  ; and  as  the  season  was  winter, 
and  the  weather  dreadfully  severe,  took  care  to  array  myself 
in  all  the  covering  I could  lay  hands  upon ; and  by  the  time 
I had  enveloped  myself  in  a pair  of  long  Hungarian  gaiters, 
and  a kurtcha  of  sheep’s  wool,  with  a brown  bear-skin  outside, 
with  a Welsh  wig,  and  a pair  of  large  dark  glass  goggles  to 
defend  the  eyes  from  the  snow,  I was  not  only  perfectly  imper- 
vious to  all  effects  of  the  weather,  but  so  thoroughly  defended 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


273 


from  any  influence  of  sight  or  sound,  that  a volcano  might 
be  hissing  and  thundering  within  ten  yards  of  me,  without 
attracting  the  slightest  attention.  Now,  I thought,  instead 
of  remaining  here,  I’ll  just  step  down  to  the  coach,  and  get 
snugly  into  the  diligence,  and  having  secured  the  corner  of 
the  coupe,  resign  myself  to  sleep  with  the  certainty  of  not 
being  left  behind,  and,  probably,  too,  be  some  miles  on  my 
journey  before  awaking. 

“ I accordingly  went  downstairs,  and  to  my  surprise  found, 
even  at  that  early  hour,  that  many  of  the  gargons  of  the  house 
were  stirring  and  bustling  about,  getting  all  the  luggage  up 
in  the  huge  wooden  leviathan  that  was  to  convey  us  on  our 
road.  There  they  stood,  like  bees  around  a hive,  clustering 
and  buzzing,  and  all  so  engaged  that  with  difficulty  could  I 
get  an  answer  to  my  question  of  what  diligence  it  was  ? 4 La 

diligence  pour  Paris,  monsieur/ 

“ ‘ Ah,  all  right  then/  said  I ; so,  watching  an  opportunity 
to  do  so  unobserved,  for  I supposed  they  might  have  laughed 
at  me,  I stepped  quietly  into  the  coupe,  and  amid  the  creak- 
ing of  cordage,  and  the  thumping  of  feet  on  the  roof,  fell  as 
sound  asleep  as  ever  I did  in  my  life — these  sounds  coming 
to  my  muffled  ears  soft  as  the  echoes  on  the  Rhine.  When 
it  was  that  I awoke  I cannot  say ; but  as  I rubbed  my  eyes 
and  yawned  after  a most  refreshing  sleep,  I perceived  that  it 
was  still  quite  dark  all  around,  and  that  the  diligence  was 
standing  before  the  door  of  some  inn  and  not  moving.  Ah, 
thought  I,  this  is  the  first  stage  ; how  naturally  one  always 
wakes  at  the  change  of  horses — a kind  of  instinct  implanted 
by  Providence,  I suppose,  to  direct  us  to  a little  refreshment 
on  the  road.  With  these  pious  feelings  I let  down  the  glass, 
and  called  out  to  the  gargon  for  a glass  of  brandy  and  a cigar. 
While  he  was  bringing  them,  I had  time  to  look  about,  and 
perceived,  to  my  very  great  delight,  that  I had  the  whole  coupe 
to  myself.  ‘ Are  there  any  passengers  coming  in  here  ? * 
said  I,  as  the  waiter  came  forward  with  my  petit  verre.  4 I 
should  think  not,  sir/  said  the  fellow  with  a leer  1 ‘Then  I 
shall  have  the  whole  coupe  to  myself? 7 said  I.  ‘ Monsieur 
need  have  no  fear  of  being  disturbed  ; I can  safely  assure 
him  that  he  will  have  no  one  there  for  the  next  twenty-four 
hours.7  This  was  really  pleasant  intelligence  ; so  I chucked 
him  a ten-sous  piece,  and  closing  up  the  window,  as  the  morn- 
ing was  cold,  once  more  lay  back  to  sleep  with  a success  that 
has  never  failed  me.  It  was  to  a bright  blue  cloudless  sky, 

18 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


*7  4 


and  the  sharp  clear  air  of  a fine  day  in  winter,  that  I at  length 
opened  my  eyes.  I pulled  out  my  watch,  and  discovered  it 
was  exactly  two  o’clock  ; I next  lowered  the  glass  and  looked 
about  me,  and  very  much  to  my  surprise  discovered  that  the 
diligence  was  not  moving,  but  standing  very  peaceably  in  a 
very  crowded  congregation  of  other  similar  and  dissimilar 
conveyances,  all  of  which  seemed,  I thought,  to  labor  under 
some  physical  ailment,  some  wanting  a box,  others  a body, 
etc.,  etc.,  and  in  fact  suggesting  the  idea  of  an  infirmary  for 
old  and  disabled  carriages  of  either  sex,  mails  and  others. 
‘Oh,  I have  it/  cried  I,  ‘we  are  arrived  at  Mont-Geran, 
and  they  are  all  at  dinner,  and  from  my  being  alone  in  the 
coupe  they  have  forgotten  to  call  me.’  I immediately  opened 
the  door,  and  stepped  out  into  the  inn-yard,  crowded  with 
conducteurs,  grooms  and  hostlers,  who,  I thought,  looked 
rather  surprised  at  seeing  me  emerge  from  the  diligence. 

“ ‘ You  did  not  know  I was  there/  said  I,  with  a knowing 
wink  at  one  of  them  as  I passed. 

“ ‘ Assurement  non/  said  the  fellow  with  a laugh,  that  was 
the  signal  for  all  the  others  to  join  in  it.  ‘ Is  the  table  d’hote 
over  ? ’ said  I,  regardless  of  the  mirth  around  me.  ‘ Mon- 
sieur is  just  in  time/  said  the  waiter,  who  happened  to  pass 
with  a soup- tureen  in  his  hand.  ‘ Have  the  goodness  to 
step  this  way/  I had  barely  time  to  remark  the  close  resem- 
blance of  the  waiter  to  the  fellow  who  presented  me  with  my 
brandy  and  cigar  in  the  morning,  when  he  ushered  me  into  a 
large  room  with  about  forty  persons  sitting  at  a long  table, 
evidently  waiting  with  impatience  for  the  ‘ potage  ’ to  begin 
their  dinner.  Whether  it  was  they  enjoyed  the  joke  of  hav- 
ing neglected  to  call  me,  or  that  they  were  laughing  at  my 
travelling  costume,  I cannot  say,  but  the  moment  I came  in 
I could  perceive  a general  titter  run  through  the  assembly. 
‘ Not  too  late  after  all,  gentlemen/  said  I,  marching  gravely 
up  to  the  table. 

“‘Monsieur  is  in  excellent  time/  said  the  host,  making 
room  for  me  beside  his  chair.  Notwithstanding  the  incum- 
brance of  my  weighty  habiliments,  I proceeded  to  do  ample 
justice  to  the  viands  before  me,  apologizing  laughingly  to  the 
host  by  pleading  a traveller’s  appetite. 

“ ‘ Then  you  have  perhaps  come  far  this  morning/  said  a- 
gentleman  opposite. 

“‘Yes/  said  I,  ‘I  have  been  on  the  road  since  four 
o’clock/ 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


275 


“‘And  how  are  the  roads  ?’  said  another.  ‘Very  bad/ 
said  I,  ‘ the  first  few  stages  from  Lyons,  afterward  much 
better/  This  was  said  at  a venture,  as  I began  to  be  ashamed 
of  being  always  asleep  before  my  fellow-travellers.  They  did 
not  seem,  however,  to  understand  me  perfectly ; and  one  old 
fellow,  putting  down  his  spectacles  from  his  forehead,  leaned 
over  and  said,  ‘ And  where,  may  I ask,  has  monsieur  come 
from  this  morning  ? * 

“ ‘ From  Lyons/  said  I,  with  the  proud  air  of  a man  who 
has  done  a stout  feat,  and  is  not  ashamed  of  the  exploit. 

“ 1 From  Lyons  ! ’ said  one.  ‘ From  Lyons  ! ’ cried  another. 
‘ From  Lyons  ! ’ repeated  a third. 

“/  Yes/  said  I ; ‘ what  the  devil  is  so  strange  in  it  ? — trav- 
elling is  so  quick  nowadays,  one  thinks  nothing  of  twenty 
leagues  before  dinner/ 

u The  infernal  shout  of  laughing  that  followed  my  explana- 
tion is  still  in  my  ears ; from  one  end  of  the  table  to  the 
other  there  was  one  continued  ha,  ha,  ha — from  the  greasy 
host  to  the  little  hunchbacked  waiter,  they  were  all  grinning 
away. 

“ ‘ And  how  did  monsieur  travel  ? ’ said  the  old  gentleman, 
who  seemed  to  carry  on  the  prosecution  against  me. 

“ 4 By  the  diligence,  the  “ Aigle  noir,”  * said  I,  giving  the 
name  with  some  pride  that  I was  not  altogether  ignorant  of 
the  conveyance. 

“ ‘Then  you  should  certainly  not  complain  of  the  roads/ 
said  the  host,  chuckling  ; ‘ for  the  only  journey  that  diligence 
has  made  this  day  has  been  from  the  street-door  to  the  inn- 
yard  ; for,  as  they  found  when  the  luggage  was  nearly  packed 
that  the  axle  was  almost  broken  through,  they  wheeled  it 
round  to  the  cour , and  prepared  another  for  the  travellers/ 

“ ‘ And  where  am  I now  ? 9 said  I. 

“ ‘ In  Lyons/  said  twenty  voices,  half-choked  with  laughter 
at  my  question. 

“I  was  thunderstruck  at  the  news  at  first;  but  as  I pro- 
ceeded with  my  dinner,  I joined  in  the  mirth  of  the  party, 
which  certainly  was  not  diminished  on  my  telling  them  the 
object  of  my  intended  journey. 

“ ‘ I think,  young  man/  said  the  old  fellow  with  the 
spectacles,  ‘ that  you  should  take  the  occurrence  as  a warn- 
ing of  Providence  that  marriage  will  not  suit  you/  I began 
to  be  of  the  same  opinion  ; but  then  there  was  the  jointure. 
To  be  sure,  I was  to  give  up  tobacco  ; and  perhaps  I should 


IiArrY  lorrrquer. 


576 

not  be  as  free  to  ramble  about  as  when  en  gar  $ on.  So,  talc- 
ing all  things  into  consideration,  I ordered  in  another  bottle  j 
of  Burgundy,  to  drink  Mrs.  Ram’s  health — got  my  passport 
vised  for  Barege— and  set  out  for  the  Pyrenees  the  same 
evening.”  I 

“ And  have  you  never  heard  anything  more  of  the  lady  ? ” 
said  Mrs.  Bingham. 

“ Oh,  yes.  She  was  faithful  to  the  last ; for  I found  out 
when  at  Rome  last  winter  that  she  had  offered  a reward  for 
me  in  the  newspapers,  and  indeed  had  commenced  a regular 
pursuit  of  me  through  the  whole  Continent.  And  to  tell  the 
real  fact,  I should  not  now  fancy  turning  my  steps  toward 
Paris,  if  I had  not  very  tolerable  information  that  she  is  in 
full  cry  after  me  through  the  Wengen  Alps.  I have  con- 
trived a paragraph  in  Galignani  to  seduce  her  thither,  and 
where,  with  the  blessing  of  Providence,  if  the  snow  set  in 
early,  she  must  pass  the  winter.” 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PARIS. 

Nothing  more  worthy  of  recording  occurred  before  our 
arrival  at  Meurice’s  on  the  third  day  of  our  journey.  My 
friend  O’Leary  had,  with  his  usual  good  fortune,  become  in- 
dispensable to  his  new  acquaintance,  and  it  was  not  altogether 
without  some  little  lurking  discontent  that  I perceived  how 
much  less  often  my  services  were  called  in  request  since  his 
having  joined  our  party : his  information,  notwithstanding 
its  very  scanty  extent,  was  continually  relied  upon,  and  his 
very  imperfect  French  everlastingly  called  into  requisition  to 
interpret  a question  for  the  ladies.  Yes,  thought  I,  “ Othello’s 
occupation’s  gone  ; ” one  of  two  things  has  certainly  hap- 
pened : either  Mrs.  Bingham  and  her  daughter  have  noticed 
my  continued  abstraction  of  mind,  and  have  attributed 
it  to  the  real  cause,  the  preoccupation  of  my  affections; 
or,  thinking,  on  the  other  hand,  that  I am  desperately 
in  love  with  one  or  the  other  of  them,  have  thought  that 
a little  show  of  preference  to  Mr.  O’Leary  may  stimulate 
me  to  a proposal  at  once.  In  either  case,  I resolved  to  lose 
no  time  in  taking  my  leave,  which  there  could  be  no  difficulty 


HARRY  LORRRQtfER. 


*11 

in  doing  now,  as  the  ladies  had  reached  their  intended  des« 
tination,  and  had  numerous  friends  in  Paris  to  advise  and 
assist  them  ; besides  that,  I had  too  long  neglected  the  real 
object  of  my  trip,  and  should  lose  no  time  in  finding  out  the 
Callonbys,  and  at  once  learn  what  prospect  of  success 
awaited  me  in  that  quarter.  Leaving  my  fair  friends  then  to 
refresh  themselves  after  the  journey,  and  consigning  Mr. 
O’Leary  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  meerschaum,  through  the 
aid  of  which  he  had  rendered  his  apartment  like  a Dutch 
swamp  in  autumn,  the  only  portion  of  his  own  figure  visible 
through  the  mist  being  his  short  legs  and  heavy  shoes,  I set 
forth  at  last. 

On  reaching  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  where  the 
Callonbys  had  resided,  I learned  that  they  were  still  at  Baden, 
and  were  not  expected  in  Paris  for  some  weeks  ; that  Lord 
Kilkee  had  arrived  that  morning,  and  was  then  dining  at  the 
Embassy,  having  left  an  invitation  for  me  to  dine  with  him 
on  the  following  day,  if  I happened  to  call.  As  I turned  from 
the  door,  uncertain  whither,  to  turn  m.y  steps,  I walked  on 
unconsciously  toward  the  Boulevard,  and  occupied  as  I was, 
thinking  over  all  the  chances  before  me,  did  not  perceive 
where  I stood  till  the  bright  glare  of  a large  gas-lamp  over  my 
head  apprised  me  that  I was  at  the  door  of  the  well-known 
Salon  des  Etrangers,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Richelieu ; 
carriages,  citadines,  and  vigilantes  were  crowding,  crashing, 
and  clattering  on  all  sides,  as  the  host  of  fashion  and  the  gam- 
ing-table were  hastening  to  the  champ  de  battaille.  Not 
being  a member  of  the  salon,  and  having  little  disposition  to 
enter,  if  I had  been,  I stood  for  some  minutes  looking  at  the 
crowd  as  it  continued  to  press  on  toward  the  splendid  and 
brilliantly  lighted  stairs,  which  leads  from  the  very  street  to 
the  rooms  of  this  palace,  for  such,  in  magnificence  and  luxury 
of  its  decorations,  it  ^really  is.  As  I was  on  the  very  eve  of 
turning  away,  a large  and  very  handsome  cab-horse  turned 
the  corner  from  the  balustrade,  with  the  most  perfect  appoint- 
ment of  harness  and  carriage  I had  seen  for  a long  time. 

While  I continued  to  admire  the  taste  and  propriety  of  the 
equipage,  a young  man  in  deep  mourning  sprung  from  the 
inside,  and  stood  upon  the  pavement  before  me.  “ A deux 
heures,  Charles,1 ” said  he  to  his  servant,  as  the  cab  turned 
slowly  round.  The  voice  struck  me  as  well  known.  I waited 
till  he  approached  the  lamp,  to  catch  a glimpse  of  the  face  ; 
and  what  was  my  surprise  to  recognize  my  cousin,  Guy  Lor- 


HARRY  L ORREQ UER . 


278  HARRY  L ORREQ  UER . 

requer  of  the  10th,  whom  I had  not  met  with  for  six  years 
before.  My  first  impulse  was  not  to  make  myself  known  to 
him.  Our  mutual  position  with  regard  to  Lady  Jane  was  so/ 
much  a mystery,  as  Regarded  myself,  that  I feared  the  resuljt 
of  any  meeting,  until  I was  sufficiently  aware  of  how  matters 
stood,  and  whether  we  were  to  meet  as  friends  and  relations, 
or  rivals,  and  consequently  enemies. 

Before  I had  time  to  take  my  resolution,  Guy  had  recog- 
nized me,  and  seizing  me  by  the  hand  with  both  his,  called 
“ Harry,  my  old  friend,  how  are  you  ? how  long  have  you  been 
here,  and  never  to  call  on  me  ? Why,  man,  what  is  the  mean- 


ing of  this  ? ” Before  I had  time  to  say  that  I was  only  a few 
hours  in  Paris,  he.  agdin  interrupted  me  by  saying,  “And 
how  comes  it  that  you  are  not  in  mourning  ? You  must  surely 
have  heard  it.”  “ Heard  what  ? ” I cried,  nearly  hoarse 
from  agitation.  “ Our  poor  old  friend,  Sir  Guy,  didn’t  you 
know,  is  dead  ? ” Only  those  who  have  felt  how  strong  the 
ties  of  kindred  are,  as  they  decrease  in  number,  can  tell  how 
this  news  fell  upon  my  heart.  All  my  poor  uncle’s  kind- 
nesses came  one  by  one  full  upon  my  memory  ; his  affec- 
tionate letters  of  advice  ; his  well-meant  chidings,  too,  even 
dearer  to  me  than  his  praise  and  approval,  completely  un- 
manned me  ; and  I stood  speechless  and  powerless  before  my 
cousin  as  he  continued  to  detail  to  me  the  rapid  progress  of 
Sir  Guy’s  malady,  an  attack  of  gout  in  the  head,  which 
carried  him  off  in  three  days.  Letters  had  been  sent  to 
me  in  different  places,  but  none  reached,  and  at  the  very 
moment  the  clerk  of  my  uncle’s  lawyer  was  in  pursuit  of  me 
through  the  Highlands,  where  some  mistaken  information 
had  induced  him  to  follow  me. 

“ You  are,  therefore,”  continued  Guy,  “ unaware  that  your 
uncle  has  dealt  so  fairly  by  you,  and  indeed  by  both  of  us ; I 
have  got  the  Somersetshire  estates,  why:h  go  with  the  baron- 
etcy ; but  the  Cumberland  property  is  all  yours ; and  I 
heartily  wish  you  joy  of  having  nearly  eight  thousand  per 
annum,  and  one  of  the  sweetest  villas  that  ever  man  fancied 
on  Derwentwater.  But  come  along  here,”  continued  he ; 
and  he  led  me  through  the  crowded  corridor  and  up  the  wide 
stair  ; “ I have  much  to  tell  you,  and  we  can  be  perfectly 

alone  here  ; no  one  will  trouble  themselves  with  us.”  Uncon- 
scious of  all  around  me,  I followed  Guy  along  the  gilded 
and  glittering  lobby  which  led  to  the  salon,  and  it  was  only 
as  the  servant  in  rich  livery  came  forward  to  take  my  hat 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


279 

and  cane  that  I remembered  where  I was.  Then  the  full 
sense  of  all  I had  been  listening  to  rushed  upon  me,  and  the 
unfitness,  and  indeed  the  indecency,  of  the  place  for  such  com* 
munications  as  we  were  engaged  in,  came  most  forcibly  before 
me.  Sir  Guy,  it  is  true,  always  preferred  my  cousin  to  me ; 
he  it  was  who  was  always  destined  to  succeed  both  to  his 
title  and  estates,  and  his  wildness  and  extravagance  had  ever 
met  with  a milder  rebuke  and  weaker  chastisement  than  my 
follies  and  my  misfortunes.  Yet  still  he  was  my  last  remain- 
ing relative  ; and  the  only  one  I possessed  in  all  the  world 
to  whom  in  any  difficulty  or  trial  I had  to  look  up  ; and  I felt, 
in  the  very  midst  of  my  newly-acquired  wealth  and  riches, 
poorer  and  more  alone  than  ever  I had  done  in  my  life-time. 
I followed  Guy  to  a small  and  dimly-lighted  cabinet  off  the 
great  salon,  where,  having  seated  ourselves,  he  proceeded  to 
detail  to  me  the  various  events  which  a few  short  weeks  had 
accomplished.  Of  himself  he  spoke  but  little,  and  never 
once  alluded  to  the  Callonbys  at  all ; indeed,  all  I could  learn 
was  that  he  had  left  the  army,  and  purposed  remaining  for 
the  winter  at  Paris,  where  he  appeared  to  have  entered  into 
all  its  gayety  and  dissipation  at  once. 

“ Of  course,”  said  he,  “ you  will  give  up  6 sodgering  ’ now ; 
at  the  best  it  is  but  poor  sport  after  five-and- twenty  ; and  is 
perfectly  unendurable  when  a man  has  the  means  of  pushing 
himself  in  the  gay  world  ; and  now,  Harry,  let  us  mix  a 
little  among  the  mob  here ; for  Messieurs  les  Banquiers  don’t 
hold  people  in  estimation  who  come  here  only  for  the  ‘ cha- 
pons  au  riz,’  and  the  champagne  glacee,  as  we  should  seem 
to  do  were  we  to  stay  here  much  longer.” 

Such  was  the  whirl  of  my  thoughts,  and  so  great  the  con- 
fusion in  my  ideas  from  all  I had  just  heard,  that  I felt  my- 
self implicitly  following  every  direction  of  my  cousin,  with  a 
child-like  obedience,  of  the  full  extent  of  which  I became  only 
conscious  when  I found  myself  seated  at  the  table  of  the 
salon,  between  my  cousin  Guy  and  an  old,  hard-visaged,  pale- 
countenanced  man,  who  he  told  me  in  a whisper  was  Vilelle 
the  Minister. 

What  a study  for  a man  who  would  watch  the  passions  and 
emotions  of  his  fellow-men  would  the  table  of  a rouge  et  noir 
gambling-house  present — the  skill  and  dexterity  which  games 
of  other  kinds  require,  being  here  wanting,  leave  the  player 
free  to  the  full  abandonment  of  the  passion.  The  interest  is 
not  a gradually  increasing  or  vacillating  one,  as  fortune  and 


280 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


knowledge  of  the  game  favor ; the  result  is  uninfluenced  by 
anything  of  his  doing ; with  the  las,t  turned  card  of  the  | 
croupier  is  he  rich  or  ruined  ; and  thus  in  the  vfcry  abstrac-  J 
tion  of  the  anxiety  is  this  the  most  painfully  exciting  of  all 
gambling  whatever ; the  very  rattle  of  the  dice-box  to  the 
hazard  player  is  a relief ; and  the  thought  that  he  is  in  some 
way  instrumental  in  his  good  or  bad  fortune  gives  a turn 
to  his  thoughts.  There  is  something  so  like  the  inevitable 
character  of  fate  associated  with  the  result  of  a chance,  which 
you  can  in  no  way  affect  or  avert,  that  I have,  notwithstand- 
ing a strong  bias  for  play,  ever  dreaded  and  avoided  the 
rouge  et  noir  table : hitherto  prudential  motives  had  their 
share  in-  the  resolve  ; a small  loss  at  play  becomes  a matter  of 
importance  to  a sub  in  a marching  regiment ; and,  therefore, 

I was  firm  in  my  determination  to  avoid  the  gambling-table. 
Now  my  fortunes  were  altered ; and  as  I looked  at  the  heap 
of  shining  louis-d'or , which  Guy  pushed  before  me  in  ex- 
change for  a billet  de  banque  of  large  amount,  I felt  the  full 
importance  of  my  altered  position,  mingling  with  the  old  and 
long  practiced  prejudices  which  years  had  been  accumulating 
to  fix.  There  is  besides  some  wonderful  fascination  to  most 
men  in  the  very  aspect  of  high  play  ; to  pit  your  fortune 
against  that  of  another — to  see  whether  or  not  your  luck  shall 
not  exceed  some  other’s — are  feelings  that  have  a place  in 
most  bosoms,  and  are  certainly,  if  not  naturally  existing, 
most  easily, generated  in  the  bustle  and  excitement  of  the 
gambling-house.  The  splendor  of  the  decorations  ; the  rich 
profusion  of  gilded  ornaments ; the  large  and  gorgeously 
framed  mirrors  ; the  sparkling  lustres,  mingling  their  effects 
with  the  perfumed  air  of  the  apartment,  filled  with  orange 
trees  and  other  aromatic  shrubs  ; the  dress  of  the  company, 
among  whom  were  many  ladies  in  costumes  not  inferior  to 
those  of  a court ; the  glitter  of  diamonds ; the  sparkle  of 
stars  and  decorations,  rendered  more  magical  by  knowing 
that  the  wearers  were  names  in  history.  There,  with  his 
round,  but  ample  shoulders,  and  large,  massive  head,  covered 
with  long,  snow-white  hair,  stands  Talleyrand,  the  maker  and 
unmaker  of  kings,  watching  with  a look  of  unconcealed  anx- 
iety the  progress  of  his  game.  Here  is  Soult,  with  his  dogged 
look  and  beetled  brow ; there  stands  Balzac,  the  author ; his 
gains  here  are  less  derived  from  the  betting  than  the  be-c' 
tors;  he  is  evidently  making  his  own  of  some  of  them,  while,  in 
the  SQemmgbonhomieoi  his  careless  mar ner  and  easy  abandon, 


I/A RR  V L ORREQUER . 


281 


they  scruple  not  to  trust  him  with  anecdotes  and  traits  that 
from  the  crucible  of  his  fiery  imagination  come  forth  like  the 
purified  gold  from  the  furnace.  And  there — look  at  that  old 
and  weather-beaten  man,  with  gray  eyebrows  and  mustaches, 
who  throws  from  the  breast-pocket  of  his  frock,  ever  and 
anon,  a handful  of  gold  pieces  upon  the  table  ; he  evidently 
neither  knows  nor  cares  for  the  amount,  for  the  banker  him- 
self is  obliged  to  count  over  the  stake  for  him — that  is  Blu- 
cher,  the  never-wanting  attendant  at  the  salon  ; he  has  been 
an  immense  loser,  but  plays  on  with  the  same  stern  persever- 
ance with  which  he  would  pour  his  bold  cavalry  through  a 
ravine  torn  by  artillery  ; he  stands  by  the  still  waning  chance 
with  a courage  'that  never  falters. 

One  strong  feature  of  the  levelling  character  of  a taste  for 
play  has  never  ceased  to  impress  me  most  forcibly — not  only 
do  the  individual  peculiarities  of  the  man  give  way  before 
the  all-absorbing  passion — but  stranger  still,  the  very  boldest 
traits  of  nationality  even  fade  and  disappear  before  it ; and 
man  seems,  under  the  high-pressure  power  of  this  greatest  of 
all  stimulants,  resolved  into  a most  abstract  state. 

Among  all  the  traits  which  distinguish  Frenchmen  from 
natives  of  every  other  country,  none  is  more  prominent  than 
a kind  of  never-failing  elasticity  of  temperament,  which  seems 
almost  to  defy  all  the  power  of  misfortune  to  depress.  Let 
what  will  happen,  the  Frenchman  seems  to  possess  some 
strong  resource  within  himself,  in  his  ardent  temperament, 
upon  which  he  can  draw  at  will,  and  whether  on  the  day 
after  a defeat,  the  moment  of  being  deceived  in  his  strongest 
hopes  of  returned  affection — the  overthrow  of  some  long 
cherished  wish— it  matters  not — he  never  gives  way  entirely ; 
but  see  him  at  the  gaming-table — watch  the  intense,  the 
aching  anxiety  with  which  his  eye  follows  every  card  as  it 
falls  from  the  hand  of  the  croupier — behold  the  look  of  cold 
despair  that  tracks  his  stake  as  the  banker  rakes  it  in  among 
his  gains — and  you  will  at  once  perceive  that  here,  at  least,  his 
wonted  powers  fail  him.  No  jest  escapes  the  lips  of  one  that 
would  badinet  upon  the  steps  of  the  guillotine.  The  mocker 
who  would  jeer  at  the  torments  of  revolution  stands  like  a 
coward,  quailing  before  the  impassive  eye  and  pale  cheek  of 
a croupier.  While  I continued  to  occupy  myself  by  observ- 
ing the  different  groups  about  me,-  I had  been  almost  me- 
chanically following  the  game,  placing  at  each  deal  some 
gold  upon  the  table  ; the  result,  however,  had  interested  me 


28  2 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


so  slightly,  that  it  was  only  by  remarking  the  attention  my 
game  had  excited  in  others,  that  my  own  was  drawn  toward 
it.  I then  perceived  that  I had  permitted  my  winnings  to 
accumulate  upon  the  board,  and  that  in  the  very  deal  then 
commencing  I had  a stake  of  nearly  five  hundred  pounds 
upon  the  deal. 

“ Faites  votre  jeu,  le  jeu  est  fait,,,  said  the  croupier; 
“ trente-deux.” 

“ You  have  lost,  by  Jove,”  said  Guy,  in  a low  whisper,  in 
which  I could  detect  some  trace  of  agitation. 

“ Trente  et  une,”  said  the  croupier.  “ Rouge  perd,  et 
couleur.” 

There  was  a regular  buzz  of  wonder  through  the  room  at 
my  extraordinary  luck,  for  thus,  with  every  chance  against 
me,  I had  won  again. 

As  the  croupier  placed  the  billets  de  banque  upon  the 
table,  I overheard  the  muttered  commendations  of  an  old 
veteran  behind  me  upon  the  coolness  and  judgment  of  my 
play  ; so  much  for  fortune,  thought  I,  my  judgment  consists 
in  a perfect  ignorance  of  the  chances,  and  my  coolness  is 
merely  a thorough  indifference  to  success.  Whether  it  was 
now  that  the  flattery  had  its  effect  upon  me,  or  that  the  pas- 
sion for  play,  so  long  dormant,  had  suddenly  seized  hold 
upon  me,  I know  not,  but  my  attention  became  from  that 
moment  rivetted  upon  the  game,  and  I played  every  deal. 
Guy,  who  had  been  from  the  first  betting  with  the  indifferent 
success  which  I have  so  often  observed  to  attend  upon  the 
calculations  of  old  and  experienced  gamblers,  now  gave  up, 
and  employed  himself  merely  in  watching  my  game. 

“ Harry,”  said  he,  at  last,  “ I am  completely  puzzled  as  to 
whether  you  are  merely  throwing  down  your  louis  at  hazard, 
or  are  not  the  deepest  player  I have  ever  met  with.” 

“You  shall  see,”  said  I,  as  I 'stooped  over  toward  the 
banker,  and  whispered  : “ How  far  is  the  betting  per- 

mitted ? ” 

“ Fifteen  thousand  francs  ! ” said  the  croupier,  with  a look 
of  surprise. 

“Then  be  it,”  said  I,  “ quinze  mille  francs,  rouge.” 

In  a moment  the  rouge  won,  and  the  second  deal  I repeated 
the  bet,  and  so  continuing  on  with  like  success ; when  I was 
preparing  my  rouleau  for  the  fifth,  the  banker  rose,  and  saying, 
“ Messieurs,  la  banque  est  ferme  pour  ce  soir,  ” proceeded 
to  lock  his  cassette,  and  closed  the  table. 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


283 


“ You  are  satisfied  now,”  said  Guy,  rising  ; “ you  see  you 
have  broke  the  bank,  and  a very  pretty  incident  to  commence 
with  on  your  first  introduction  to  a campaign  in  Paris.” 

Having  changed  my  gold  for  notes,  I stuffed  them  with  an 
air  of  well-affected  carelessness  into  my  pocket,  and  strolled 
through  the  salon,  where  I had  now  become  an  object  of 
considerably  more  interest  than  all  the  marshals  and  minis 
iers  about  me. 

“ Now,  Hal,”  said  Guy,  “ I’ll  just  order  our  supper  in  the 
cabinet,  and  join  you  in  a moment.” 

As  I remained  for  some  minutes  awaiting  Guy’s  return,  my 
attention  was  drawn  towards  a crowd  in  a smaller  saloon, 
among  whom  the  usual  silent  decorum  of  the  play-table 
seemed  held  in  but  small  respect,  for  every  instant  some 
burst  of  hearty  laughter  or  some  expression  of  joy  or  anger 
burst  forth,  by  which  I immediately  perceived  that  they 
were  the  votaries  of  the  roulette  table,  a game  at  which  the 
strict  propriety  and  etiquette  ever  maintained  at  rouge  et 
noir  are  never  exacted.  As  I pressed  near,  to  discover  the 
cause  of  the  mirth,  which  every  moment  seemed  to  augment, 
guess  my  surprise  to  perceive,  among  the  foremost  rank  of 
the  players,  my  acquaintance,  Mr.  O’Leary,  whom  I at  that 
moment  believed  to  be  solacing  himself  with  his  meerschaum 
at  Meurice’s  ! My  astonishment  at  how  he  obtained  ad- 
mission to  the  salon  was  even  less  than  my  fear  of  his  rec- 
ognizing me.  At  no  time  is  it  agreeable  to  find  that  the  man 
who  is  regarded  as  the  buffo  of  a party  turns  out  to  be  your 
friend,  but  still  less  is  this  so,  when  the  individual  claiming 
acquaintance  with  you  presents  any  striking  absurdity  in  his 
dress  or  manner,  strongly  at  contrast  with  the  persons  and 
things  about  him  ; and  thus  it  now  happened — Mr.  O’Leary’s 
external  man,  as  we  met  him  on  the  Calais  road,  with  its  various 
accompaniments  of  blouse-cap,  spectacles,  and  tobacco-pipe, 
were  nothing  very  outre  or  remarkable  ; but  when  the  same 
figure  presents  itself  among  the  elegants  of  the  Parisian  world, 
/edolent  of  eau  de  Portugal,  and  superb  in  the  glories  of  bro 
cade  waistcoats  and  velvet  coats,  the  thing  was  too  absurd, 
and  I longed  to  steal  away  before  any  chance  should  present 
itself  of  a recognition.  This,  however,  was  impossible,  as 
the  crowd  from  the  other  table  were  all  gathered  round  us, 
and  I was  obliged  to  stand  fast,  and  trust  that  the  excitement 
of  the  game,  in  which  he  appeared  to  be  thoroughly  occupied, 
might  keep  his  eye  fixed  on  another  quarter.  I now  observed 


HARRY  LorRRQVRR. 


that  the  same  scene  in  which  I had  so  lately  been  occupied 
at  the  rouge  et  noir  table,  was  enacting  here,  under  rather 
different  circumstances.  Mr.  O’Leary  was  the  only  player, 
as  I had  just  been — not,  however,  because  his  success  absorbed 
all  the  interest  of  the  bystanders,  but  that,  unfortunately,  his 
constant  want  of  it  9 elicited  some  strong  expression  of  dis- 
content and  mistrust  from  him,  which  excited  the  loud 
laughter  of  the  others ; but  of  which,  from  his  great  anxiety 
in  his  game,  he  seemed  totally  unconscious. 

“ Faites  votre  jeu,  messieurs/’  said  the  croupier. 

“ Wait  a bit  till  I change  this,”  said  Mr.  O’Leary,  produc- 
ing an  English  sovereign.  The  action  interpreted  his  wishes, 
and  the  money  was  converted  into  coupons  de  jeu . I now  discov- 
ered one  great  cause  of  the  mirth  of  the  bystanders,  at  least  the 
English  portion  of  them.  Mr.  O’Leary,  when  placing  his  money 
upon  the  table,  observed  the  singular  practice  of  announcing 
aloud  the  amount  of  his  bet,  which,  for  his  own  information, 
he  not  only  reduced  to  English,  but  also  Irish  currency. 
Thus  the  stillness  of  the  room  was  every  instant  broken  by  a 
strong  Irish  accent,  pronouncing  something  of  this  sort : 
“five  francs,”  “four  and  a penny;”  “ten  francs,”  “ eight  and 
three  ha’pence.”  The  amusement  thus  caused  was  increased 
by  the  excitement  his  losses  threw  him  into.  He  now  ceased 
to  play  for  several  times,  when  at  last  he  made  an  offering 
of  his  usual  stake. 

“ Perd,”  said  the  croupier,  raking  in  the  piece  with  a con- 
temptuous air  at  the  smallness  of  the  bet,  and  in  no  way 
pleased  that  the  interest  Mr.  O’Leary  excited  should  prevent 
the  other  players  from  betting. 

“ Perd,”  said  O’Leary,  “ again.  Divil  another  song  you 
sing  than  ‘perd,’  and  I’m  not  quite  clear  you’re  not  cheating 
all  the  while — only,  God  help  you  if  you  are  !” 

As  he  so  said,  the  head  of  a huge  blackthorn  stick  was 
half  protruded  across  the  table,  causing  renewed  mirth  ; for, 
among  other  regulations,  every  cane,  however  trifling,  is 
always  demanded  at  the  door ; and  thus  a new  subject  of 
astonishment  arose  as  to  how  he  had  succeeded  in  carrying 
it  with  him  into  the  salon. 

“ Here’s  at  you  again,”  said  O’Leary,  regardless  of  the 
laughter,  and  covering  three  or  four  numbers  with  his 

jetons. 

Round  went  the  ball  once  more,  and  once  more  he  lost. 

“ Look  now,  divil  a lie  in  it,  he  makes  them  go  wherever  he 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 285 

pleases.  I’ll  take  a turn  now  at  the  tables  ; fair  play’s  a jewel 
— and  we’ll  see  how  you’ll  get  on.” 

So  saying,  he  proceeded  to  insinuate  himself  into  the  chair 
of  the  croupier,  whom  he  proposed  to  supersede,  by  no  very 
gentle  means.  This  was  of  course  resisted,  and  as  the  loud 
mirth  of  the  bystanders  grew  more  and  more  boisterous,  the 
cries  of  “ A la  porte  ! a la  porte  ! ” from  the  friends  of  the 
bank  rung  through  the  crowd. 

“ Go  it,  Pat — go  it,  Pat ! ” said  Guy,  over  my  shoulder, 
who  seemed  to  take  a prodigious  interest  in  the  proceedings. 

At  this  unexpected  recognition  of  his  nativity,  for  Mr. 
O’Leary  never  suspected  he  could  be  discovered  by  his  ac- 
cent, he  looked  across  the  table  and  caught  my  eye  at  once. 

“ Oh,  I’m  safe  now!  Stand  by  me,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  and 
we’ll  clear  the  room  ! ” * 

So  saying,  and  without  further  provocation,  he  upset  the 
croupier,  chair  and  all,  with  one  sudden  jerk  upon  the  floor, 
and  giving  a tremendous  kick  to  the  cassette,  sent  all  the 
five-franc  pieces  flying  over  him  ; he  then  jumped  upon  the 
table,  and  brandishing  his  blackthorn  through  the  ormolu 
lustre,  scattered  the  wax-lights  on  all  sides,  accompanying 
the  exploit  by  a yell  that  would  have  called  up  all  Connemara 
at  midnight,  if  it  had  only  been  heard  there.  In  an  instant 
the  gendarmes,  always  sufficiently  near  to  be  called  in  if  re- 
quired, came  pouring  into  the  room,  and  supposing  the  whole 
affair  had  been  a preconcerted  thing  to  obtain  possession  of 
the  money  in  the  bank,  commenced  capturing  different  mem- 
bers of  the  company  who  appeared,  by  enjoying  the  con- 
fusion, to  be  favoring  and  assisting  it.  My  cousin  Guy  was 
one  of  the  first  so  treated — a proceeding  to  which  he  respond- 
ed by  an  appeal  rather  in  favor  with  most  Englishmen,  and 
at  once  knocked  down  the  gendarme  ; this  was  the  signal 
for  a general  engagement,  and  accordingly,  before  an  explana- 
tion could  possibly  be  attempted,  a most  terrific  combat 
ensued,  the  Frenchmen  in  the  room  siding  with  the  gendar- 
merie, and  making  common  cause  against  the  English,  who, 
although  greatly  inferior  in  number,  possessed  considerable 
advantage  from  long  habit  in  street  rows  and  boxing  encoun- 
ters. As  for  myself,  I had  the  good  fortune  to  be  pitted 
against  a very  pursy  and  unwieldy  Frenchman,  who  sacr'Yd 
to  admiration,  but  never  put  in  a single  blow  at  me.  While, 
therefore,  I amused  myself  practising  what  old  Cribb  called 
“ the  one,  two  ” upon  his  fat  carcass.  I had  abundant  time 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2 86 

and  opportunity  to  watch  all  that  was  doing  about  me,  and 
truly  a more  ludicrous  affair  I never  beheld.  Imagine  about 
fifteen  or  sixteen  young  Englishmen,  most  of  them  powerful, 
athletic  fellows,  driving  an  indiscriminate  mob  of  about  five 
times  their  number  before  them,  who,  with  courage  enough  to 
resist,  were  yet  so  totally  ignorant  of  the  boxing  art,  that  they 
retreated,  pell-mell,  before  the  battering  phalanx  of  their 
sturdy  opponents — the  most  ludicrous  figure  of  all  being  Mr. 
O’Leary  himself,  who,  standing  upon  the  table,  laid  about 
him  with  a brass  lustre  that  he  had  unstrung,  and  did  con- 
siderable mischief  with  this  novel  instrument  of  warfare,  cry- 
ing out  the  entire  time  : “ Murder  every  mother’s  son  of 
them  ! ” “ Give  them  another  taste  of  Waterloo  !”  Just  as 
he  had  uttered  the  last  patriotic  sentiment,  he  received  a 
slight  admonition  from  behind,  by  the  point  of  a gendarme’s 
sword,  which  made  him  leap  from  the  table  with  the  alac- 
rity of  a harlequin,  and  come  plump  down  among  the  thickest 
of  the  fray.  My  attention  was  now  directed  elsewhere,  for 
above  all  the  din  and  “ tapage  ” of  the  encounter  I could 
plainly  hear  the  row-dow-dow  of  the  drums,  and  the  measured 
tread  of  troops  approaching,  and  at  once  guessed  that  a rein- 
forcement of  the  gendarmerie  were  coming  up.  Behind  me 
there  was  a large  window,  with  a heavy  scarlet  curtain  before 
it ; my  resolution  was  at  once  taken  ; I floored  my  antagonist, 
whom  I had  till  now  treated  with  the  most  merciful  for- 
bearance, and  immediately  sprung  behind  the  curtain.  A 
second’s  consideration  showed  that  in  the  search  that  must 
ensue  this  would  afford  no  refuge,  so  I at  once  opened  the 
sash,  and  endeavored  to  ascertain  at  what  height  I was  above 
the  ground  beneath  me ; the  night  was  so  dark  that  I could 
see  nothing,  but  judging  from  the  leaves  and  twigs  that  reached 
to  the  window,  that  it  was  a garden  beneath,  and  auguring 
from  the  perfumed  smell  of  the  shrubs,  that  they  could  not 
be  tall  trees,  I resolved  to  leap,  a resolve  I had  little  time  to 
come  to,  for  the  step  of  the  soldiers  was  already  heard  upon 
the  stair.  Fixing  my  hat  then  down  upon  my  brows,  and 
buttoning  my  coat  tightly,  I let  myself  down  from  the  win- 
dow-sill by  my  hands,  and  fell  upon  my  legs  in  the  soft  earth 
of  the  garden,  safe  and  unhurt.  From  the  increased  clamor 
and  din  overhead,  I could  learn  the  affray  was  at  its  height, 
and  had  little  difficulty  in  detecting  the  sonorous  accent  and 
wild  threats  of  my  friend  Mr.  O’Leary  high  above  all  the 
other  sounds  around  him.  I did  not  wait  long,  however,  to 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 287 

enjoy  them,  but  at  once  set  about  securing  my  escape  from 
my  present  bondage.  In  this  I had  little  difficulty,  for  I was 
directed  by  a light  to  a small  door,  which,  as  I approached, 
I found  that  it  led  into  the  den  of  the  concierge,  and  also 
communicated  by  another  door  with  the  street.  I opened  it, 
therefore,  at  once,  and  was  in  the  act  of  opening  the  second, 
when  I felt  myself  seized  by  the  collar  by  a strong  hand  ; and 
on  turning  round  saw  the  sturdy  figure  of  the  concierge  him- 
self with  a drawn  bayonet  within  a few  inches  of  my  throat : 
“ Tenez,  mon  ami,”  said  I,  quietly,  and  placing  half  a dozen 
louis,  some  of  my  recent  spoils,  in  his  hand,  at  once  satisfied 
him  that,  even  if  I were  a robber,  I was  at  least  one  who 
understood  and  respected  the  cotivenances  of  society.  He  at 
once  relinquished  his  hold  and  dropped  his  weapon,  and  pull- 
ing off  his  cap  with  one  hand,  drew  the  cord  which  opened 
the  porte  cochere  with  the  other,  and  bowed  me  politely  to  the 
street.  I had  scarcely  had  time  to  insinuate  myself  into  the 
dense  mass  of  people  whom  the  noise  and  confusion  within 
had  assembled  around  the  house,  when  the  double  door  of 
the  building  opened,  and  a file  of  gendarmerie  came  forth, 
leading  between  them  my  friend  Mr.  O’Leary  and  some 
others  of  the  rioters — among  whom  I rejoiced  to  find  my 
cousin  did  not  figure.  If  I were  to  judge  from  his  disordered 
habiliments  and  scarred  visage,  Mr.  O’Leary’s  resistance  to 
the  constituted  authorities  must  have  been  a vigorous  one ; 
and  the  drollery  of  his  appearance  was  certainly  not  de- 
creased by  his  having  lost  the  entire  brim  of  his  hat — the 
covering  of  his  head  bearing,  under  these  distressing  circum- 
stances, a strong  resemblance  to  a saucepan. 

As  I could  not  at  that  moment  contribute  in  any  way  to 
his  rescue,  I determined  on  the  following  day  to  be  present 
at  his  examination  and  render  him  all  the  assistance  in  my 
power.  Meanwhile,  I returned  to  Meurice’s,  thinking  of 
every  adventure  of  the  evening  much  more  than  of  my  own 
changed  condition  and  altered  fortunes. 


288 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

PARIS. 

The  first  thing  which  met  my  eye,  when  walking  in  the 
morning,  after  the  affair  at  the  Salon,  was  the  rouleau  of 
billets  de  banque  which  I had  won  at  play  ; and  it  took  several 
minutes  before  I could  persuade  myself  that  the  entire  rec- 
ollection of  the'  evening  had  any  more  solid  foundation  than 
a heated  brain  and  fevered  imagination. 

The  sudden  spring  from  being  a subaltern  in  the  — th,  with 
a few  hundreds  per  annum — “ pour  tout  potage,”  to  becom- 
ing the  veritable  proprietor  of  several  thousands,  with  a hand- 
some house  in  Cumberland,  was  a consideration  which  I could 
scarcely  admit  into  my  mind — so  fearful  was  I that  the  very 
first  occurrence  of  the  day  should  dispel  the  illusion,  and 
throw  me  back  into  the  dull  reality  which  I was  hoping  to 
escape  from. 

There  is  no  adage  more  true  than  the  old  Latin  one — 
“ that  what  we  wish  we  readily  believe  ; ” so  I had  little  diffi- 
culty in  convincing  myself  that  all  was  as  I desired — although, 
certainly,  my  confused  memory  of  the  past  evening  con- 
tributed little  to  that  conviction.  It  was,  then,  amid  a very 
whirl  of  anticipated  pleasures,  and  new  schemes  for  enjoying 
life,  that  I sat  down  to  a breakfast,  at  which,  that  I might 
lose  no  time  in  commencing  my  race,  I had  ordered  the  most 
recherche  viands  which  even  French  cookery  can  accomplish 
for  the  occasion. 

My  plans  were  soon  decided  upon.  I resolved  to  remain 
only  long  enough  in  Paris  to  provide  myself  with  a comfort- 
able travelling  carriage — secure  a good  courier — and  start 
for  Baden ; when  I trusted  that  my  pretensions,  whatever 
favor  they  might  have  been  once  received  with,  would 
certainly  now,  at  least,  be  listened  to  with  more  prospect  of 
being  successful. 

I opened  the  Galignani’s  paper  of  the  day,  to  direct  me  in 
my  search,  and  had  scarcely  read  a few  lines  before  a 
paragraph  caught  my  eye,  which  not  a little  amused  me ; it 


J7ARR  V LORRJZQUER.  289 

was  headed — Serious  riot  at  the  Salon  des  Etr angers,  and 
attempt  to  rob  the  bank  : 

“ Last  evening,  among  the  persons  who  presented  them- 
selves at  the  table  of  this  fashionable  resort,  were  certain 
individuals,  who,  by  their  names  and  dress,  bespoke  anything 
rather  than  the  rank  and  condition  of  those  who  usually 
resort  there,  and  whose  admission  is  still  unexplained,  notwith- 
standing the  efforts  of  the  police  to  unravel  the  mystery. 
The  proprietors  of  the  bank  did  not  fail  to  remark  these 
persons  ; but  scrupled,  from  fear  of  disturbing  the  propriety 
of  the  salon,  to  take  the  necessary  steps  for  their  exclusion 
— reserving  their  attention  to  the  adoption  of  precautions 
against  such  intrusion  in  future — unfortunately,  as  it  turned 
out  eventually,  for,  toward  eleven  o’clock,  one  of  these 
individuals,  having  lost  a considerable  sum  at  play,  proceeded 
in  a very  violent  and  outrageous  manner  to  denounce  the 
bank,  and  went  so  far  as  to  accuse  the  croupier  of  cheating. 
This  language  having  failed  to  excite  the  disturbance  it  was 
evidently  intended  to  promote,  was  soon  followed  up  by  a 
most  dreadful  personal  attack  upon  the  banquier,  in  which 
-he  was  thrown  from  his  seat,  and  the  cassette,  containing 
several  thousand  francs  in  gold  and  notes,  immediately  laid 
hold  of.  The  confusion  now  became  considerable,  and  it 
was  apparent  that  the  whole  had  been  a preconcerted  scheme. 
Several  persons,  leaping  upon  the  table,  attempted  to  extin- 
guish the  great  lustre  of  the  salon,  in  which  bold  attempt 
they  were  most  spiritedly  resisted  by  some  of  the  other  play- 
ers and  the  gendarmes,  who  by  this  time  had  arrived  in  force. 
The  riot  was  quelled  after  a prolonged  and  desperate  resist- 
ance, and  the  rioters,  with  the  exception  of  two,  were  captured, 
and  conveyed  to  prison,  where  they  await  the  result  of  a 
judicial  investigation — of  which  we  shall  not  fail  to  lay  the 
particulars  before  our  readers. 

“ Since  our  going  to  press,  we  have  learned  that  one  of 
the  ringleaders  in  this  vile  scheme  is  a noted  English  escroc 

— a swindler  who  was  already  arrested  at  C for  travelling 

with  a false  passport;  but  who  contrives,  by  some  collusion 
with  another  of  the  gang,  to  evade  the  local  authorities.  If 
this  be  the  case,  we  trust  he  will  be  speedily  detected  and 
brought  to  punishment.” 

Whatever  amusement  I had  found  in  reading  the  commenc- 
ing portion  of  this  ridiculous  misstatement,  the  allusion  in 
the  latter  part  by  no  means  afforded  me  equal  pleasure  ; and 


290 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


I saw,  in  one  rapid  glance,  how  much  annoyance,  and  how 
many  delays  and  impediments,  a charge  even  of  this  ridicu- 
lous nature,  might  give  rise  to  in  my  present  circumstances. 
My  passport,  however,  will  settle  all,  thought  I,  as  I thrust 
my  hand  toward  my  pocket,  in  which  I had  placed  it  along 
with  some  letters.  • 

Guess  my  misery  to  discover  that  the  whole  of  the  pocket 
had  been  cut  away,  probably  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  the 
billets  de  banque  I had  won  at  play,  but  which  I had  changed 
from  that  pocket  to  a breast  one  on  leaving  the  table.  This 
at  once  led  me  to  suspect  that  there  might  be  some  truth  in 
the  suspicion  of  the  newspaper  writer  of  a preconcerted 
scheme,  and  at  once  explained  to  me  what  had  puzzled  me 
much  before — the  extreme  rapidity  with  which  the  elements 
of  discord  were  propagated,  for  the  whole  affair  was  the  work 
of  a few  seconds.  While  I continued  to  meditate  on  these 
matters,  the  waiter  entered  with  a small  note  in  an  envelope, 
which  a commissionaire  had  just  left  at  the  hotel  for  me,  and 
went  away,  saying  there  was  no  answer.  I opened  it  hastily, 
and  read  : 

“ Dear  H : The  confounded  affair  of  last  night  has 

induced  me  to  leave  this  for  a few  days : besides  that  I have 
obtained  a most  excellent  reason  for  absenting  myself  in  the 
presence  of  a black  eye,  which  will  prevent  my  appearance  in 
public  for  a week  to  come.  As  you  are  a stranger  here,  you 
need  not  fear  being  detected.  With  all  its  desagrements , I 
can’t  help  laughing  at  the  adventure,  and  I am  heartily  glad 
to  have  had  the  opportunity  of  displaying  old  Jackson’s 
science  upon  those  wretched  gendarmes. 

“ Yours  truly,  G.  L.” 

This  certainly,  thought  I,  improves  my  position.  Here  is 
my  cousin  Guy — the  only  one  to  whom,  in  any  doubt  or 
difficulty  here,  I could  refer — here  he  is— flown — without 
letting  me  know  where  to  address  him  or  find  him  out.  I 
rang  my  bell  hastily,  and  having  written  a line  on  my  card, 
requesting  Lord  Kilkee  to  come  to  me  as  soon  as  he  could, 
dispatched  it  to  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  The  messenger  soon 
returned  with  an  answer,  that  Lord  Kilkee  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  Paris  late  the  evening  before,  having  received  some 
important  letters  from  Baden.  My  anxiety  now  became 
greater.  I did  not  know  but  that  the  moment  I ventured 


HARRY  LORRRQUER. 


291 


to  leave  the  hotel  I should  be  recognized  by  some  of  the 
witnesses  of  the  evening’s  fray ; and  all  thoughts  of  succor- 
ing poor  O’Leary  were  completely  forgotten  in  my  fear  for  the 
annoyances  the  whole  of  this  ridiculous  affair  might  involve 
me  in.  Without  any  decisions  as  to  my  future  steps,  I 
dressed  myself,  and  proceeded  to  pay  my  respects  to  Mrs. 
Bingham  and  her  daughter,  who  were  in  the  same  hotel,  and 
whom  I had  not  seen  since  our  arrival. 

As  I entered  the  drawing-room,  I was  surprised  to  find 
Miss  Bingham  alone.  She  appeared  to  have  been  weeping 
— at  least,  the  efforts  she  made  to  appear  easy  and  in  good 
spirits  contrasted  a good  deal  with  the  expression  of%her 
features  as  I came  in.  To  my  inquiries  for  Mrs.  Bingham, 
I received  for  answer  that  the  friends  Mrs.  Bingham  had 
expected  having  left  a few  days  before  for  Baden,  she  had 
resolved  on  following  them,  and  had  now  merely  driven  out 
to  make  a few  purchases  before  her  departure,  which  was  to 
take  place  in  the  morning. 

There  is  something  so  sad  in  the  thought  of  being  deserted 
and  left  by  one’s  friends  under  any  circumstances,  that  I 
cannot  express  how  much  this  intelligence  affected'  me.  It 
seemed,  too,  like  the  last  stroke  of  bad  news  filling  up  the 
full  measure,  that  I was  to  be  suddenly  deprived  of  the 
society  of  the  very  few  friends  about  me,  just  as  I stood  most 
in  need  of  them. 

Whether  or  not  Miss  Bingham  noticed  my  embarrassment, 
I cannot  say  ; but  certainly  she  seemed  not  displeased,  and 
there  was  in  the  half-encouraging  tone  of  her  manner  some- 
thing which  led  me  to  suspect  that  she  was  not  dissatisfied 
with  the  impression  her  news  seemed  to  produce  upon 
me.  i 

Without  at  all  alluding  io  my  own  improved  fortune,  or  to 
the  events  of  the  preceding  night,  I began  to  talk  over  the 
coming  journey  and  expressed  my  sincere  regret  that,  having 
lost  my  passport  under  circumstances  which  might  create 
some  delay  in  retrieving  it,  I could  not  join  their  party  as  I 
should  otherwise  have  done: 

Miss  Bingham  heard  this  speech  with  rather  more  emotion 
Tian  so  simple  a declaration  was  calculated  to  produce  ; and, 
while  she  threw  down  her  eyes  beneath  their  long,  dark  lashes, 
and  colored  slightly,  asked  x: 

“ And  did  you  really  wish  to  come  with  us  ? ” 

“ Undoubtedly,”  said  I. 


292 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ And  is  there  no  other  objection  than  the  passport  ? 99 

“ None  whatever,”  said  I,  warming  as  I spoke,  for  the  in- 
terest she  appeared  to  take  in  me  completely  upset  all  my 
calculations,  besides  that  I had  never  seen  her  looking  so 
handsome,  and  that , as  the  French  wisely  remark,  “ vaut 
toujours  quelque  chose.” 

“ Oh,  then,  pray  come  with  us,  which  you  can  do,  for 
mamma  has  just  got  her  passport  for  her  nephew  along  with 
her  own  ; and  as  we  really  don’t  want  him  nor  he  us,  we 
shall  both  be  better  pleased  to  be  free  of  each  other,  and  you 
can  easily  afterward  have  your  own  forwarded  to  Baden  by 
post.” 

“ Ah,  but,”  said  I,  “ how  shall  I be  certain,  if  I take  so 
flattering  an  offer,  that  you  will  forgive  me  for  filling  up  the 
place  of  the  dear  cousin  ; for,  if  I conjecture  aright,  it  is  4 Le 
Cher  Edouard  9 that  purposes  to  be  your  companion.” 

“Yes,  you  have  guessed  quite  correctly;  but  you  must  not 
tax  me  with  inconsistency,  but  really  I have  grown  quite  tired 
of  my  poor  cousin  since  I saw  him  last  night.” 

“ And  you  used  to  admire  him  prodigiously.” 

“ Well,  well,  that  is  all  true  ; but  I do  so  no  longer.” 

“ Eh  ! perche,”  said  I,  looking  cunningly  in  her  eye. 

“ For  reasons  that  Mr.  Lorrequer  shall  never  know,  if  he 
has  to  ask  them,”  said  the  poor  girl,  covering  her  eyes  with 
her  hands  and  sobbing  bitterly. 

What  I thought,  said,  or  did,  upon  this  occasion,  with  all 
my  most  sincere  desire  to  make  a “ clean  breast  of  it  in  these 
Confessions,”  I know  not  ; but  this  I do  know,  that  two 
hours  after,  I found  myself  still  sitting  upon  the  sofa  beside 
Miss  Bingham,  whom  I had  been  calling  Emily  all  the  while, 
and  talking  more  of  personal  matters  and  my  own  circum- 
stances  than  is  ever  safe  or  prudent  for  a young  man  to  do  with 
any  lady  under  the  age  of  his  mother. 

All  I can  now  remember  of  this  interview  is  the  fact  of 
having  arranged  my  departure  in  the  manner  proposed  by 
Miss  Bingham — a proposition  to  which  I acceded  with  an 
affectation  of  satisfaction  that  I fear  went  very  far  to  deceive 
my  fair  friend.  Not  that  the  pleasure  I felt  in  the  prospect 
was  altogether  feigned  ; but  certainly  the  habit  of  being  led 
away  by  the  whim  and  temper  of  the  moment  had  so  much 
become  part  of  my  nature,  that  I had  long  since  despaired 
of  ever  guarding  myself  against  the  propensity  I had  ac- 
quired, of  following  every  lead  which  any  one  might  throw 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


2 93 


^ut  for  me.  And  thus,  as  poor  Harry  Lorrequer  was  ever 
the  first  man  to  get  into  a row  at  the  suggestion  of  a friend, 
so  he  only  waited  the  least  possible  pressing  on  any  occasion, 
to  involve  himself  in  any  scrape  or  misfortune  that  presented 
itself,  provided  there  was  only  some  one  good  enough  to  advise 
him  to  do  so. 

As  I entered  my  own  room,  to  make  preparations  for  my 
departure,  I could  not  help  thinking  over  all  the  events  thus 
crowded  into  the  space  of  a few  hours.  My  sudden  posses- 
sion of  wealth — my  prospects  at  Callonby  still  undecided — 
my  scrape  at  the  salon — my  late  interview  with  Miss  Bing- 
ham, in  which  I had  only  stopped  short  of  a proposal  to 
marry,  were  almost  sufficient  to  occupy  any  reasonable  mind  ; 
and  so  I was  beginning  to  suspect,  when  the  waiter  informed 
me  that  the  Commissaire  of  Police  was  in  waiting  below,  and 
wished  to  speak  to  me.  Affecting  some  surprise  at  the  re- 
quest, which  I at  once  perceived  the  object  of,  I desired  him 
to  be  introduced.  I was  quite  correct  in  my  guess.  The 
information  of  my  being  concerned  in  the  affair  at  the  salon 
had  been  communicated  to  the  authorities,  and  the  Com- 
missaire had  orders  to  obtain  bail  for  my  appearance  at  the 
Tribunal  de  Justice  on  that  day  week,  or  commit  me  at  once 
to  prison.  The  Commissaire  politely  gave  me  till  evening  to 
procure  the  required  bail,  satisfying  himself  that  he  could 
adopt  measures  to  prevent  my  escape,  and  took  his  leave. 
He  had  scarcely  gone  when  Mr.  Edward  Bingham  was  an- 
nounced— the  reason  for  this  visit  I could  not  so  easily  divine  ; 
but  I had  little  time  allowed  for  my  conjectures,  as  the  same 
instant  a very  smart,  dapper  little  gentleman  presented  him, 
dressed  in  all  the  extravagance  of  French  mode.  His  hair, 
which  was  permitted  to  curl  upon  his  shoulders,  was  divided 
along  the  middle  of  the  head  ; his  mustaches  were  slightly 
upturned  and  carefully  waxed,  and  his  small  chin-tuft,  or 
Henri-quatre,  most  gracefully  pointed  ; he  wore  three  most 
happily  contrasting  colored  waistcoats,  and  spurs  of  glitter' 
ing  brass.  His  visit  was  of  scarcely  five  minutes’  duration, 
but  was  evidently  the  opening  of  a breaching  battery  by  the 
Bingham  family  in  all  form — the  object  of  which  I could  at 
least  guess  at. 

My  embarrassments  were  not  destined  to  end  here  ; for 
scarcely  had  I returned  Mr.  Bingham’s  eighth  salutation  at 
the  head  of  the  staircase,  when  another  individual  presented 
himself  before  me.  This  figure  was  in  every  respect  the 


/94 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


opposite  of  my  last  visitor.  Although  framed  perfectly  upon 
the  late  Parisian  school  of  dandyism,  his,  however,  was  the 
“ ecole  militaire.”  Le  Capitaine  Eugene  de  Joncourt,  for 
so  he  introduced  himself,  was  a portly  personage,  of  about 
five-and -thirty  or  forty  years  of  age,  with  that  mixture  of  bon- 
homie and  ferocity  in  his  features  which  the  soldiers  of 
Napoleon’s  army  either  affected  or  possessed  naturally.  His 
features,  which  were  handsome,  and  the  expression  of  which 
was  pleasing,  were,  as  it  seemed,  perverted  by  the  warlike 
turn  of  a most  terrific  pair  of  whiskers  and  mustaches,  from 
their  naturally  good-humored  bent ; and  the  practiced  frown 
and  quick  turn  of  his  dark  eyes  were  evidently  only  the 
acquired  advantages  of  his  military  career  ; a handsome 
mouth,  wfith  singularly  regular  and  good  teeth,  took  much 
away  from  the  farouche  look  of  the  upper  part  of  his  face  ; 
and  contributed,  with  the  aid  of  a most  pleasing  voice,  to 
impress  you  in  his  favor  ; his  dress  was  a blue  braided  frock 
decorated  with  the  cordon  of  the  legion  ; but  neither  these 
nor  the  clink  of  his  long  cavalry  spurs  were  necessary  to  con- 
vince you  that  the  man  was  a soldier  ; besides  that,  there  was 
that  mixture  of  urbanity  and  aplomb  in  his  manner  which 
showed  him  to  be  perfectly  accustomed  to  the  usages  of  the 
best  society. 

“ May  I beg  to  know,”  said  he,  as  he  seated  himself  slowly, 
“ if  this  card  contains  your  name  and  address  ? ” handing  me 
at  the  same  moment  one  of  my  visiting-cards.  I immedi- 
ately replied  in  the  affirmative. 

“ You  are  then  in  the  English  service  ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Then,  may  I entreat  your  pardon  for  the  trouble  of  these 
questions,  and  explain  the  reason  of  my  visit.  I am  the 
friend  of  Le  Baron  D’Haulpenne,  with  whom  you  had  the 
altercation  last  night  in  the  salon,  and  in  whose  name  I have 
come  to  request  the  address  of  a friend  on  your  part.” 

Ho,  ho,  thought  I,  the  baron  is  then  the  stout  gentleman 
that  I pummelled  so  unmercifully  near  the  window  ; but  how 
came  he  by  my  card  ? and  besides,  in  a row  of  that  kind,  I 
am  not  aware  how  far  the  matter  can  be  conceived  to  go 
further  than  what  happens  at  the  moment.  These  were  the 
thoughts  of  a second  of  time,  and  before  I could  reply  any- 
thing, the  captain  resumed  : 

“ You  seem  to  have  forgotten  the  circumstance,  and  so 
indeed  should  I like  to  do ; but  unfortunately  D’Haulpenne 


IT  A RR  Y L ORREQ  URR. 


295 


says  that  you  struck  him  with  your  walking-cane  ; so  you 
know,  under  such  a state  of  things,  there  is  but  one  course.,, 

“ But  gently/’  added  I ; “ I had  no  cane  whatever  the  last 
evening.” 

“ Oh  ! I beg  pardon,”  interrupted  he  ; “ but  my  friend  is 
most  positive  in  his  account,  and  describes  the  altercation  as 
having  continued  from  the  salon  to  the  street,  when  you 
struck  him,  and  at  the  same  time  threw  him  your  card.  Two 
of  our  officers  were  also  present ; and  although,  as  it  appears 
from  your  present  forgetfulness,  that  the  thing  took  place  in 
the  heat  and  excitement  of  the  moment,  still ” 

“But (still,”  said  I,  catching  up  his  last  words,  “I  never 
did  strike  the  gentleman  as  you  describe — never  had  any 
altercation  in  the  street — and ” 

“ Is  that  your  address  ? ” said  the  Frenchman,  with  a single 
bow. 

“Yes,  certainly  it  is.” 

“Why  then,”  said  he,  with  a slight  curl  of  his  upper  lip — 
half  smile,  half  derision 

“ Oh  ! make  yourself  perfectly  easy,”  I replied.  “ If  any 
one  has  by  an  accident  made  use  of  my  name,  it  shall  not 
suffer  by  such  a mistake.  I shall  be  quite  at  your  service, 
the  moment  I can  find  out  a friend  to  refer  you  to.” 

I had  much  difficulty  to  utter  these  few  words  with  a suit- 
able degree  of  temper,  so  stung  was  I by  the  insolent 
demeanor  of  the  Frenchman,  whose  coolness  and  urbanity 
seemed  only  to  increase  every  moment. 

“ Then  I have  the  honor  to  salute  you,”  said  he,  rising, 
with  great  mildness  in  his  voice,  “ and  shall  take  the  liberty 
to  leave  my  card  for  the  information  of  your  friend.” 

So  saying,  he  placed  his  card  upon  the  table — “ Le  Capi- 
taine  Eugene  de  Joncourt,  Cuirassiers  de  la  Garde.” 

“ I need  not  press  upon  monsieur  the  value  of  dispatch.” 

“ I shall  not  lose  a moment,”  said  I,  as  he  clattered  down 
the  stairs  of  the  hotel,  with  that  perfect  swaggering  nonchal 
ance  which  a Frenchman  is  always  an  adept  in  ; and  I re- 
turned to  my  room,  to  meditate  upon  my  numerous  embar- 
rassments, and  think  over  the  difficulties  which  every  moment 
was  contributing  to  increase  the  number  of. 

“ The  indictment  has  certainly  many  counts,”  thought  I. 

Imprimis — A half-implied,  but  fully  comprehended  promise 
to  marry  a young  lady,  with  whom,  I confess,  I only  intend 
to  journey  this  life — as  far  as  Baden. 


HARR  y L ORREQ  UER . 


296 

Secondly,  a charge  of  swindling — for  such  the  imputation 
amounts  to — at  the  salon. 

Thirdly,  another  unaccountable  delay  in  joining  the  Cal- 
lonbys,  with  whom  I am  every  hour  in  the  risk  of  being 
“ compromis ; ” and  lastly,  a duel  in  perspective  with  some 
confounded  Frenchman  who  is  at  this  very  moment  practis- 
ing at  a pistol  gallery. 

Such  were  the  heads  of  my  reflections,  and  such  the  agree- 
able impressions  my  visit  to  Paris  was  destined  to  open  with  ; 
how  they  were  to  be  .followed  up  I reserve  for  another 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

CAPTAIN  TREVANION’S  ADVENTURE. 

As  the  day  was  now  waning  apace,  and  I was  still  unpro- 
vided with  any  one  who  could  act  as  my  second,  I set  out 
upon  a search  through  the  various  large  hotels  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, trusting  that  amid  my  numerous  acquaintance  I 
should  be  fortunate  enough  to  find  some  of  them  at  Paris. 
With  almost  anxious  eye  I scanned  the  list  of  arrivals  at  the 
usual  haunts  of  my  countrymen,  in  the  Rue  Rivoli  and  the 
Place  Vendome,  but  without  success;  there  were  long  cata- 
logues of  “ Milors,”  with  their  “ couriers,”  etc.,  but  not  one 
name  known  to  me  in  the  number. 

I repaired  to  Galignani's  library,  which,  though  crowded 
as  ever  with  English,  did  not  present  to  me  one  familiar  face. 
From  thence  I turned  into  the  Palais  Royal,  and  at  last, 
completely  jaded  by  walking,  and  sick  from  disappointment, 
I sat  down  upon  a bench  in  the  Tuileries  Garden. 

I had  scarcely  been  there  many  minutes  when  a gentleman 
accosted  me  in  English,  saying  : “ May  I ask  if  this  be  your 
property  ? ” showing,  at  the  same  time,  a pocket-book  which 
I had  inadvertently  dropped  in  pulling  out  my  handkerchief. 
As  I thanked  him  for  bis  attention,  and  was  about  to  turn 
away,  I perceived  that  he  continued  to  look  very  steadily  at 
me.  At  length  he  said  : 

“ I think  I am  not  mistaken.  I have  the  pleasure  to  see 
Mr.  Lorrequer,  who  may  perhaps  recollect  my  name,  Trevan- 
ion  of  the  43d.  The  last  time  we  met  was  at  Malta.” 

“ Oh,  I remember  perfectly.  Indeed  I should  be  very  un* 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


* 97 


grateful  if  I .did  not ; for  to  your  kind  offices  there  I am  in- 
debted for  my  life.  You  must  surely  recollect  the  street  row 
at 6 the  Caserne ’ ? ” 

“ Yes  ; that  was\rather  a brisk  affair  while  it  lasted;  but, 
pray,  how  long  are  you  here  ? ” 

“ Merely  a few  days  ; and  most  anxious  am  I to  leave  as 
soon  as  possible ; for  independently  of  pressing  reasons  to 
wish  myself  elsewhere,  I have  had  nothing  but  trouble  and 
worry  since  my  arrival,  and  at  this  instant  am  involved  in  a 
duel,  without  the  slightest  cause  that  I can  discover,  and, 
what  is  still  worse,  without  the  aid  of  a single  friend  to 
undertake  the  requisite  negotiations  for  me.” 

“ If  my  services  can  in  any  way  assist ” 

“ Oh,  my  dear  captain,  this  is  really  so  great  a favor  that 
I cannot  say  how  much  I thank  you.” 

“ Say  nothing  whatever,  but  rest  quite  assured  that  I am 
completely  at  your  disposal ; for  although  we  are  not  very 
.old  friends,  yet  I have  heard  so  much  of  you  from  some  of 
ours,  that  I feel  as  if  we  had  been  long  acquainted.” 

This  was  an  immense  piece  of  good  fortune  for  me  ; for  of 
all  the  persons  I knew,  he  was  the  most  suited  to  aid  me  at 
this  moment.  In  addition  to  a thorough  knowledge  of  the 
Continent  and  its  habits,  he  spoke  French  fluently,  and  had 
been  the  most  renomme  authority  in  the  duello  to  a large 
military  acquaintance;  joining  to  a consummate  tact  and 
cleverness  in  his  diplomacy,  ax  temper  that  never  permitted 
itself  to  be  ruffled,  and  a most  unexceptionable  reputation  for 
courage.  In  a word,  to  have  had  Trevanion  for  your  second, 
was  not  only  to  have  secured  odds  in  your  favor,  but  still 
better,  to  have  obtained  the  certainty  that,  let  the  affair  take 
what  turn  it  might,  you  were  sure  of  coming  out  of  it  with 
credit. 

He  was  the  only  man  I have  ever  met  who  had  much 
mixed  himself  in  transactions  of  this  nature,  and  yet  never 
by  any  chance  had  degenerated  into  the  fire-eater  ; more 
quiet,  unassuming  manners  it  was  impossible  to  meet  with, 
and  in  the  various  anecdotes  I have  heard  of  him,  I have 
always  traced  a degree  of  forbearance,  that  men  of  less 
known  bravery  might  not  venture  to  practise.  At  the  same 
time,  when  once  roused  by  anything  like  premeditated  insult 
— or  predetermined  affront — he  became  almost  ungovernable, 
and  it  would  be  safer  to  beard  the  lion  in  his  den  than  cross 
his  path.  Among  the  many  stories,  and  there  were  a great 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


q8 

many  current  in  his  regiment  concerning  him,  there  was  one 
so  singularly  characteristic  of  the  man,  that,  as  I have  pass- 
ingly mentioned  his  name  here,  I may  as  well  relate  it ; at 
the  same  time  premising  that,  as  it  is  well  known,  I may  only 
be  repeating  an  often-heard  tale  to  many  of  my  readers. 

When  the  regiment  to  which  Trevanion  belonged  became 
part  of  the  army  of  occupation  in  Paris,  he  was  left  at  Ver- 
sailles seriously  ill  from  the  effects  of  a sabre-wound  he  re- 
ceived at  Waterloo,  and  from  which  his  recovery  at  first  was 
exceedingly  doubtful.  At  the  end  of  several  weeks,  however, 
he  became  out  of  danger,  and  was  able  to  receive  the  visits 
of  his  brother  officers,  whenever  they  were  fortunate  enough 
to  obtain  a day’s  leave  of  absence  to  run  down  and  see  him.  , 
From  them  he  learned  that  one  of  his  oldest  friends  in  the 
regiment  had  fallen  in  a duel,  during  the  time  of  his  illness,  ’ 
and  that  two  other  officers  were  dangerously  wounded — one 
of  whom  was  not  expected  to  survive.  When  he  inquired  as 
to  the  reasons  of  these  many  disasters,  he  was  informed  that 
since  the  entrance  of  the  allies  into  Paris,  the  French  officers, 
boiling  with  rage  and  indignation  for  their  recent  defeat,  and 
smarting  under  the  hourly  disgrace  which  the  presence  of 
their  conquerors  suggested,  sought  out,  by  every  means  in 
their  power,  opportunities  of  insult ; but  always  so  artfully 
contrived  as  to  render  the  opposite  party  the  challenger,  thus 
reserving  to  themselves  the  choice  of  the  weapons.  When, 
therefore,  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  the  French  are  the  most 
expert  swordsmen  in  Europe,  little  doubt  can  exist  as  to  the 
issue  of  these  combats  ; and,  in  fact,  scarcely  a morning 
passed  without  three  or  four  English  or  Prussian  officers  be- 
ing carried  through  the  Barriere  de  l’Etoile,  if  not  dead,  at 
least  seriously  wounded,  and  condemned  to  carry  with  them 
through  life  the  inflictions  of  a sanguinary  and  savage  spirit 
of  revenge. 

While  Trevanion  listened  to  this  sad  recital,  and  scarcely 
did  a day  come  without  adding  to  the  long  catalogue  of  dis-| 
asters,  he  at  once  perceived  that  the  quiet  deportment  and  -i 
unassuming  demeanor,  which  so  strongly  characterize  the 
English  officer,  were  construed  by  their  French  opponents 
into  evidence  of  want  of  courage,  and  saw  that  to  so  system- 
atic a plan  for  slaughter  no  common  remedy  could  be  applied ; 
and  that  some  coup  cTetcit  was  absolutely  necessary  to  put  it 
down  once  and  forever. 

In  tjie  history  of  these  sanguinary  rencontres,  one  name 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


2p 

was  continually  recurring,  generally  as  the  principal,  some- 
times the  instigator,  of  the  quarrel.  This  was  an  officer  of 
a chasseur  regiment,  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  the 
best  swordsman  in  the  whole  French  army,  and  was  no  less 
distinguished  for  his  “skill  at  fence  ” than  his  uncompromis- 
ing hatred  of  the  British,  with  whom  alone,  of  all  the  allied 
forces,  he  was  ever  known  to  come  in  contact.  So  celebrated 
was  the  “ Capitaine  Augustin  Gende'mar  ” for  his  pursuits, 
that  it  was  well  known  at  that  time  in  Paris  that  he  was  the 
president  of  a duelling  club,  associated  for  the  expressed  and 
avowed  object  of  provoking  to  insult,  and  as  certainly  doom- 
ing to  death,  every  English  officer  upon  whom  they  could 
fasten  a quarrel. 

The  Cafe  Philidor,  at  that  period  in  the  Rue  Vivienne,  was 
the  rendezvous  of  this  reputable  faction,  and  here  “ le  Cap- 
itaihe  ” reigned  supreme,  receiving  accounts  of  the  various 
“ affairs  ” which  were  transacting — counselling  and  plotting 
for  the  future.  His  ascendancy  among  his  countrymen  was 
perfectly  undisputed,  and  being  possessed  of  great  muscular 
strength,  with  that  peculiarly  farouche  exterior,  without  which 
courage  is  nothing  in  France,  he  was  in  every  way  calculated 
for  the  infamous  leadership  he  assumed. 

It  was,  unfortunately,  to  this  same  cafe,  being  situated  in 
what  was  called  the  English  quarter,  that  the  officers  of  the 
43d  regiment  were  in  the  habit  of  resorting,  totally  unaware 
of  the  plots  by  which  they  were  surrounded,  and  quite  un- 
suspecting the  tangled  web  of  deliberate  and  cold-blooded 
assassination  in  which  they  were  involved,  and  here  took 
place  the  quarrel,  the  result  of  which  was  the  death  of  Tre- 
vanion’s  friend,  a young  officer  of  great  promise,  and  uni- 
versally beloved  in  his  regiment. 

As  Trevanion  listened  to  these  accounts,  his  impatience 
became  daily  greater,  that  his  weak  state  should  prevent  his 
being  among  his  brother  officers,  when  his  advice  and 
assistance  were  so  imperatively  required,  and  where,  amid 
all  the  solicitude  of  his  perfect  recovery,  he  could  not  but 
perceive  they  ardently  wished  for  him. 

The  day  at  last  arrived,  and  restored  to  something  like  his 
former  self,  Trevanion  once  more  appeared  in  the  mess-room 
of  his  regiment.  Amid  the  many  sincere  and  hearty  congratu- 
lations on  his  recovered  looks  were  not  a few  half-expressed 
hints  that  he  might  not  go  much  out  into  the  world  for  some 
little  time  to  come.  To  these  friendly  admonitions  Trevanion. 


&oo  . 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


replied  by  a good-humored  laugh,  and  a ready  assurance  that 
he  understood  the  intended  kindness,  and  felt  in  nowise 
disposed  to  be  invalided  again.  “ In  fact,”  said  he,  “ I have  J 
come  up  here  to  enjoy  life  a little,  not  to  risk  it;  but,  among  > 
the  sights  of  your  gay  capital,  I must  certainly  have  a peep  ; 
at  your  famed  captain,  of  whom  I have  heard  too  much  not 
to  feel  an  interest  in  him.” 

Notwithstanding  the  many  objections  to  this,  made  with  a J 
view  to  delay  his  visit  to  the  Philidor  to  a later  period,  it 
was  at  length  agreed  that  they  should  all  repair  to  the  cafe  I 
that  evening,  but  upon  the  express  understanding  that  every  j 
cause  of  quarrel  should  be  strictly  avoided,  and  that  their 
stay  should  be  merely  sufficient  to  satisfy  Trevanion’s  curiosity 
as  to  the  personnel  of  the  renomm'e  captain. 

It  was  rather  before  the  usual  hour  of  the  cafe's  filling,  that 
a number  of  English  officers,  among  whom  was  Trevanion, 
entered  the  salon  of  the  Philidor  ; having  determined  not  to 
attract  any  unusual  attention,  they  broke  into  little  knots 
and  parties  of  threes  and  fours,  and  dispersed  through  the  J 
room,  where  they  either  sipped  their  coffee  or  played  their  ’ 
dominoes,  then,  as  now,  the  staple  resource  of  a French  caf£.  ) 

The  clock  over  the  comptoir  struck  eight,  and,  at  the  J 
same  instant,  a waiter  made  his  appearance,  carrying  a 
small  table  which  he  placed  beside  the  fire,  and,  having  1 
trimmed  a lamp,  and  placed  a large  fauteuil  before  it,  was  j 
about  to  withdraw,  when  Trevanion,  whose  curiosity  was  J 
roused  by  the  singularity  of  these  arrangements,  determined 
upon  asking  for  whose  comfort  they  were  intended.  The 
waiter  stared  for  a moment  at  the  question,  with  an  air,  as  if 
doubting  the  seriousness  of  him  who  put  it,  and  at  last,  re- 
plied : “ Pour  Monsieur  le  Capitain ^jecroisP  with  a certain 
tone  of  significance  upon  the  latter  words. 

“ Le  Capitaine  ! but  what  captain  ? ” said  he,  carelessly ; J 
“fori  am  a captain,  and  that  gentleman  there — and  there,  1 
too,  is  another,”  at  the  same  instant  throwing  himself  listlessly  | 
into  the  well-cushioned  chair,  and  stretching  out  his  legs  at 
full  length  upon  the  hearth. 

The  look  of  horror  which  this  quiet  proceeding  on  his  part  \ 
elicited  from  the  poor  waiter  so  astonished  him  that  he  could 
not  help  saying : “ Is  there  anything  the  matter  with  you,  my 
friend  ; are  you  ill  ? ” 

“No,  monsieur,  not  ill ; nothing  the  matter  with  me;  but 
you,  sir  ; oh,  you,  sir,  pray  come  away,” 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


301 


uMe?}  said  Trevanion  ; “me!  why,  my  good  man,  I was 
never  better  in  my  life  ; so  now  just  bring  me  my  coffee  and 
the  Monitcur,  if  you  have  it  there  ; don’t  stare  that  way,  but 
do.  as  I bid  you.” 

There  was  something  in  the  assured  tone  of  these  few 
words  that  either  overawed  or  repressed  every  rising  feeling 
of  the  waiter  for  his  interrogator ; for,  silently  handing  his 
coffee  apd  the  newspaper,  he  left  the  room ; not,  however, 
without  bestowing  a parting  glance  so  full  of  terror  and  dismay 
that  our  friend  was  obliged  to  smile  at  it.  All  this  was  the 
work  of  a few  minutes,  and  not  until  the  noise  of  new  arrivals 
had  attracted  the  attention  of  his  brother  officers  did  they 
perceive  where  he  had  installed  himself,  and  to  what  danger 
he  was  thus,  as  they  supposed,  unwittingly  exposed. 

It  was  now,  however,  too  late  for  remonstrance,  for  already 
several  French  officers  had  noticed  the  circumstance,  and  by 
their  interchange  of  looks  and  signs,  openly  evinced  their 
satisfaction  at  it  and  their  delight  at  the  catastrophe  which 
seemed  inevitable  to  the  luckless  Englishman. 

In  perfect  misery  at  what  they  conceived  their  own  fault  in 
not  apprising  him  of  the  sacred  character  of  that  place,  they 
stood  silently  looking  at  him,  as  he  continued  to  sip  his  coffee, 
apparently  unconscious  of  every  thing  and  person  about 
him. 

There  was  now  a more  than  ordinary  silence  in  the  cafe,, 
which  at  all  times  was  remarkable  for  the  quiet  and  noiseless 
demeanor  of  its  frequenters,  when  the  door  was  flung  open 
by  the  ready  waiter,  and  the  Captain  Augustin  Gendemar 
entered.  He  was  a large,  squarely-built  man,  with  a most 
savage  expression  of  countenance,  which  a bushy  beard,  and 
shaggy,  overhanging  mustache  served  successfully  to  assist ; 
his  eyes  were  shaded  by  deep,  projecting  brows  and  long 
eyebrows  slanting  over  them,  and  increasing  their  look  of 
piercing  sharpness ; there  was  in  his  whole  air  and  demeanor 
that  certain  French  air  of  swaggering  bullyism  which  ever 
remained  in  those  who,  having  risen  from  the  ranks,  main- 
tained the  look  of  ruffianly  defiance  which  gave  their  early 
character  for  courage  peculiar  merit. 

To  the  friendly  salutations  of  his  countrymen  he  returned 
the  slightest  and  coldest  acknowledgments,  throwing  a glance 
of  disdain  around  him  as  he  wended  his  way  to  his  accustomed 
place  beside  the  fire.  This  he  did  with  as  much  of  noise  and 
swagger  as  he  could  well  contrive  ; his  sabre  and  sabretasche 


3 02 


HARR  Y LQRREQUER. 


clanking  behind,  his  spurs  jangling,  and  his  heavy  step  made 
purposely  heavier  to  draw  upon  him  the  notice  and  attention 
he  sought  for.  Trevanion  alone  testified  no  consciousness 
of  his  entrance,  and  appeared  totally  engrossed  by  the  columns 
of  his  newspaper,  from  which  he  never  lifted  his  eyes  for  an 
instant.  Le  Capitaine  at  length  reached  the  fire-place,  when, 
no  sooner  did  he  behold  his  accustomed  seat  in  the  possession 
of  another,  than  he  absolutely  started  back  with  surprise  and 
anger. 

What  might  have  been  his  first  impulse  it  is  hard  to  say, 
for,  as  the  blood  rushed  to  his  face  and  forehead  he  clinched 
his  hands  firmly,  and  seemed  for  an  instant,  as  he  eyed  the 
stranger,  like  a tiger  about  to  spring  upon  his  victim ; this 
was  but  for  a second,  for  turning  rapidly  round  toward  his 
party,  he  gave  them  a look  of  peculiar  meaning,  showing  two 
rows  of  white  teeth,  with  a grin  which  seemed  to  say,  “ I have 
taken  my  line ; ” and  he  had  done  so.  He  now  ordered 
the  waiter,  in  a voice  of  thunder,  to  bring  him  a chair ; this 
he  took  roughly  from  him,  and  placed  with  a clash  upon 
the  floor,  exactly  opposite  that  of  Trevanion,  and  still  so  near 
as  scarcely  to  permit  of  his  sitting  down  upon  it.  The  noisy 
vehemence  of  this  action  at  last  appeared  to  have  roused 
Trevanion’s  attentiqn,  for  he  now,  for  the  first  time,  looked 
up  from  his  paper,  and  quietly  regarded  his  vis-a-vis . There 
could  not  in  the  world  be  a stronger  contrast  to  the  bland 
look  and  courteous  expression  of  Trevanion’s  handsome 
features  than  the  savage  scowl  of  the  enraged  Frenchman, 
in  whose  features  the  strong  and  ill-repressed  workings  of 
passion  were  twitching  and  distorting  every  lineament  and 
line  ; indeed,  no  words  could  ever  convey  one  half  so  forcibly 
as  did  that  look,  insult— open,  palpable,  deep,  determined 
insult. 

Trevanion,  whose  eyes  had  been  merely  for  a moment 
lifted  from  his  paper,  again  fell,  and  he  appeared  to  take  no 
notice  whatever  of  the  extraordinary  proximity  of  the  French- 
man, still  less  of  the  savage  and  insulting  character  of  his 
looks. 

Le  Capitaine,  having  thus  failed  to  bring  on  the  eclair - 
cissement  he  sought  for,  proceeded  to  accomplish  it  by  other 
means,  for,  taking  the  lamp,  by  the  light  of  which  Trevanion 
was  still  reading,  he  placed  it  at  his  side  of  the  table,  and  at 
the  same  instant  stretching  across  his  arm,  he  plucked  the 
newspaper  from  his  hand,  giving  at  the  same  moment  a 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


3°3 

glance  of  triumph  toward  the  bystanders,  as  though  he  would 
say,  “You  see  what  he  must  submit  to.”  Words  cannot 
describe  the  astonishment  of  the  British  officers,  as  they  be- 
held Trevanion,  under  this  gross  and  open  insult,  content 
himself  by  a slight  smile  and  half  bow,  as  if  returning  a 
courtesy,  and  then  throw  his  eyes  downward,  as  if  engaged 
in  deep  thought,  while  the  triumphant  sneer  of  the  French, 
at  this  unaccountable  conduct,  was  absolutely  maddening  to 
them  to  endure. 

But  their  patience  was  destined  to  submit  to  stronger 
proof,  for  at  this  instant  Le  Capitaine  stretched  forth  one 
enormous  leg,  cased  in  his  massive  jack-boot,  and  with  a 
crash  deposited  the  heel  upon  the  foot  of  their  friend  Tre- 
vanion. At  length  he  is  roused,  thought  they,  for  a slight 
flush  of  crimson  flitted  across  his  cheek,  and  his  upper  lip 
trembled  with  a quick  spasmodic  twitching  ; but  both  these 
signs  were  over  in  a second,  and  his  features  were  as  calm 
and  unmoved  as  before,  and  his  only  appearance  of  con- 
sciousness of  the  affront  was  given  by  his  drawing  back  his 
chair,  and  placing  his  legs  beneath  it,  as  for  protection. 

This  last  insult,  and  the  tame  forbearance  with  which  it 
was  submitted  to,  produced  all  their  opposite  effects  upon 
the  bystanders,  and  looks  of  ungovernable  rage  and  derisive 
contempt  were  every  moment  interchanging ; indeed,  were  it 
not  for  the  all-absorbing  interest  which  the  two  great  actors 
in  the  scene  had  concentrated  upon  themselves,  the  two  par- 
ties must  have  come  at  once  into  open  conflict. 

The  clock  of  the  cafe  struck  nine,  the  hour  at  which  Gen- 
d&nar  always  retired,  so  calling  to  the  waiter  for  his  petit 
verre  of  brandy,  he  replaced  his  newspaper  upon  the  table, 
and  putting  both  his  elbows  upon  it,  and  his  chin  upon  his 
hands,  he  stared  full  in  Trevanion’s  face  with  a look  of  the 
most  derisive  triumph,  meant  to  crown  the  achievement' of 
the  evening.  To  this,  as  to  all  his  former  insults,  Trevanion 
appeared  still  insensible,  and  merely  regarded  him  with  his 
never-changing  half  smile  ; the  petit  verre  arrived  ; Le  Capi- 
taine took  it  in  his  hand,  and,  with  a nod  of  most  insulting 
familiarity,  saluted  Trevanion,  adding  with  a loud  voice,  so 
as  to  be  heard  on  every  side,  “ A votre  courage,  Anglais.”  He 
had  scarcely  swallowed  the  liquor  when  Trevanion  rose 
slowly  from  the  chair,  displaying  to  the  astonished  gaze  of 
the  Frenchman  the  immense  proportions  and  gigantic  frame 
of  a man  well  known  as  the  largest  officer  in  the  British  army ; 


3°4 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


with  one  stride  he  was  beside  the  chair  of  the  Frenchman, 
and  witfi  the  speed  of  lightning  he  seized  his  nose  by  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  he  grasped  his  lower  jaw,  and, 
wrenching  open  his  mouth  with  the  strength  of  an  ogre,  he 
spat  down  his  throat. 

So  sudden  was  the  movement,  that  before  ten  seconds  had 
elapsed,  all  was  over,  and  the  Frenchman  rushed  from  the 
room  holding  the  fragments  of  his  jaw-bone  (for  it  was  frac- 
tured !),  and  followed  by  his  countrymen,  who,  from  that 
hour,  deserted  the  Cafe  Philidor,  nor  was  there  ever  any 
mention  of  the  famous  captain  during  the  stay  of  the  regi- 
ment in  Paris. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

DIFFICULTIES. 

While  we  walked  together  toward  ^deurice’s,  I explained 
to  Trevanion  the  position  in  which  I stood  ; and  having  de- 
tailed, at  full  length,  the  fracas  at  the  salon,  and  the  impris- 
onment of  O’Leary,  entreated  his  assistance  in  behalf  of  him, 
as  well  as  to  free  me  from  some  of  my  many  embarrass- 
ments. 

It  was  strange  enough — though  at  first  so  pre-occupied  was 
I with  other  thoughts  that  I paid  but  little  attention  to  it — 
that  no  part  of  my  eventful  evening  seemed  to  make  so 
strong  an  impression  on  him  as  my  mention  of  having  seen 
my  cousin  Guy,  and  heard  from  him  the  death  of  my  uncle. 
At  this  portion  of  my  story  he  smiled,  with  so  much  signifi- 
cance of  meaning,  that  I could  not  help  asking  his  reason. 

“ It  is  always  an  unpleasant  task,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  to  speak 
in  any  way,  however  delicately,  in  a tone  of  disparagement  of 
a man’s  relatives — and,  therefore,  as  we  are  not  long  enough 
acqu  ainted ” 

“ But  pray,”  said  I,  “ waive  that  consideration,  and  only 
remember  the  position  in  which  I now  am.  If  you  know 
anything  of  this  business,  I entreat  you  to  tell  me — I promise 
to  take  whatever  you  may  be  disposed  to  communicate  in 
the  same  good  part  it  is  intended.” 

“ Well,  then,  I believe  you  are  right ; but,  first,  let  me  ask 
you,  how  do  you  know  of  your  uncle’s  death  ; for  I have 
reason  to  doubt  it  ? ” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3°S 

“ From  Guy;  he  told  me  himself.’’ 

“ When  did  you  see  him  and  where  ? ” 

“ Why,  I have  just  told  you ; I saw  him  last  night  at  the 
salon.” 

“ And  you  could  not  be  mistaken?  ” 

“ Impossible.  Besides,  he  wrote  to  me  a note  which  I re- 
ceived this  morning — here  it  is.” 

“ Hem — ha.  Well,  are  you  satisfied  that  this  is  his  hand- 
writing?” said  Trevanion,  as  he  perused  the  note  slowly 
twice  over. 

“ Why,  of  course — but  stop — you  are  right ; it  is  not  his 
hand,  nor  do  I know  the  writing,  now  that  you  direct  my  at- 
tention to  it.  But  what  can  that  mean  ? You  surely  do  not 
suppose  that  I have  mistaken  any  one  for  him ; for,  inde- 
pendent of  all  else,  his  knowledge  of  my  family,  and  rny 
uncle’s  affairs,  would  quite  disprove  that.” 

“ This  is  really  a complex  affair,”  said  Trevanion,  musingly, 
“ How  long  may  it  be  since  you  saw  your  cousin — before 
last  night,  I mean  ? ” 

“ Several  years ; above  six,  certainly.” 

“ Oh,  it  is  quite  possible,  then,”  said  Trevanion,  musingly; 
“do  you  know,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  this  affair  seems  much  more 
puzzling  to  me  than  to  you,  and  for  this  plain  reason — I 
am  disposed  to  think  you  never  saw  your  cousin  last 
night.” 

“ WTy,  confound  it,  there  is  one  circumstance  that  I think 
may  satisfy  you  on  tfiat  head.  You  will  not  deny  that  I saw 
some  one  who  very  much  resembled  him ; and  certainly,  as 
he  lent  me  above  three  thousand  francs  to  play  with  at  the 
table,  it  looks  rather  more  like  his  act  than  that  of  a perfect 
stranger.” 

“ Have  you  got  the  money  ? ” asked  Trevanion,  dryly. 

“ Yes,”  said  I ; “but  certainly  you  are  the  most  unbeliev- 
ing of  mortals,  and  I am  quite  happy  that  I have  yet  in  my 
possession  two  of  the  billets  de  banque , for,  I suppose,  without 
them,  you  would  scarcely  credit  me.”  I here  opened  my 
pocket-book  and  produced  the  notes. 

He  took  them,  examined  them  attentively  for  an  instant, 
held  them  between  him  and  the  light,  refolded  them,  and 
having  placed  them  in  my  pocket-book,  said  : “ I thought  as 
much,  they  are  forgeries.” 

“ Hold ! ” said  I.  “ My  cousin  Guy,  whatever  wildness  he 
may  have  committed,  is  yet  totally  incapable  of ” 


3°6 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ I never  said  the  contrary,'5  replied  Trevanion,  in  the 
same  dry  tone  as  before. 

“ Then  what  can  you  mean,  for  I see  no  alternative  be- 
tween that  and  totally  discrediting  the  evidence  of  my 
senses.55 

“ Perhaps  I can  suggest  a middle  course,55  said  Trevanion ; 
“lend  me  therefore  a patient  hearing  for  a few  moments,  and 
I may  be  able  to  throw  some  light  upon  this  difficult  matter. 
You  may  never  have  heard  that  there  is  in  this  same  city  of 
Paris  a person  so  extremely  like  your  cousin  Guy  that  his 
most  intimate  friends  have  daily  mistaken  the  one  for  the 
other,  and  this  mistake  has  the  more  often  been  made  from 
the  circumstance  of  their  both  being  in  the  habit  of  frequent- 
ing the  same  class  in  society,  where,  knowing  and  walking 
with  the  same  people,  the  difficulty  of  discriminating  has 
been  greatly  increased.  This  individual,  who  has  too  many 
aliases  for  one  to  know  which  to  particularize  him  by,  is  one 
of  that  numerous  order  of  beings  whom  a high  state  of  civil- 
ization is  always  engendering  and  throwing  up  on  the  sur- 
face of  society ; he  is  a man  of  low  birth  and  mean  connec- 
tions, but  gifted  with  most  taking  manners  and  unexception- 
able address  and  appearance ; these  advantages,  and  the 
possession  of  apparently  independent  means,  have  opened 
to  him  the  access  of  a certain  set  of  people,  who  are  well 
known  and  well  received  in  society,  and  obtained  for  him, 
what  he  prizes  much  more,  the  admission  into  several  clubs 
where  high  play  is  carried  on.  In  this  mixed  assemblage, 
which  sporting  habits  and  gambling  (that  grand  leveller  of 
all  distinctions)  have  brought  together,  this  man  and  your 
cousin  Guy  met  frequently,  and  from  the  constant  allusion  to 
the  wonderful  resemblance  between  them,  your  eccentric 
cousin,  who,  I must  say,  was  never  too  select  in  his  acquaint- 
ances, frequently  amused  himself  by  practical  jokes  upon  his 
friends,  which  served  still  more  to  nurture  the  intimacy  be- 
tween them ; and  from  this  habit  Mr.  Dudley  Morewood,  for 
such  is  his  latest  patronymic,  must  have  enjoyed  frequent 
opportunities  of  hearing  much  of  your  family  and  relations, 
a species  of  information  he  never  neglected,  though  at  the 
moment  it  might  appear  not  so  immediate!^  applicable  to 
his  purposes.  Now,  this  man,  who  know**  of  every  new 
English  arrival  in  Paris  with  as  much  certainty  as  the  police 
itself,  would  at  once  be  aware  of  your  being  here,  and  having 
learned  from  Guy  how  little  intercourse  there  had  been  o( 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


307 

late  years  between  you,  would  not  let  slip  an  opportunity  of 
availing  himself  of  the  likeness,  if  anything  could  thereby 
turn  to  his  profit.” 

“ Stop,”  cried  I ; “ you  have  opened  my  eyes  completely,  for 
now  I remember  that,  as  I continued  to  win  last  night,  this 
man,  who  was  playing  hazard  at  another  table,  constantly 
borrowed  from  me,  but  always  in  gold,  invariably  refusing 
the  billets  de  banqae  as  too  high  for  his  game.” 

“ There  his  object  was  clear  enough  ; for  besides  obtaining 
your  gold,  he  made  you  the  means  of  disseminating  his  false 
billets  de  banquet 

“ So  that  I have  been  actually  playing  and  winning  upon 
this  fellow’s  forgeries,”  said  I ; “ and  am  perhaps  at  this  very 
instant  inscribed  in  the  6 Livre  noir 9 of  the  police  as  a most 
accomplished  swindler ; but  what  could  be  the  intention  of 
his  note  of  this  morning  ? ” 

“ As  to  that,”  said  Tfevanion,  “ it  is  hard  to  say ; one  thing 
you  may  assuredly  rely  upon — it  is  not  an  unnecessary 
epistle,  whatever  be  its  object;  he  never  wastes  his  powder 
when  the  game  flies  too  high ; so  we  must  only  wait  patiently 
for  the  unravelment  of  his  plans,  satisfied  that  we,  at  least, 
k^iow  something.  What  most  surprises  me  is  his  venturing 
at  present  to  appear  in  public ; for  it  is  not  above  two 
months  since  an  escapade  of  his  attracted  so  much  attention 
of  the  play  world  here,  that  he  was  obliged  to  leave,  and  it 
was  supposed  that  he  would  never  return  to  Paris.” 

“One  piece  of  good  fortune  there  is  at  least,”  said  I, 
“which,  I can.  safely  say,  repays  me  for  any  and  all  the 
annoyance  this  unhappy  affair  may  cause  me  : it  is  that  my 
poor  old  uncle  is  still  alive  and  well.  Not  all  my  anticipated 
pleasures  in  newly-acquired  wealth  could  have  afforded  me 
the  same  gratification  that  this  fact  does,  for,  although  never 
so  much  his  favorite  as  my  cousin,  yet  the  sense  of  protection 
— the  feeling  of  conSdence  which  is  inseparable  from  the 
degree  of  relationship  between  us — standing,  as  he  has  ever 
done,  in  the  light  of  a father  to  me,  is  infinitely  more  pleasur- 
able than  the  possession  of  riches,  which  must  ever  suggest 
to  me  the  recollection,  of  a kind  friend  lost  to  me  forever. 
But  so  many  thoughts  press  on  me — so  many  effects  of  this 
affair  are  staring  me  in  the  face — I really  know  not  which 
way  to  turn,  nor  can  I even  collect  my  ideas  sufficiently  to 
determine  what  is  first  to  be  done.” 

“ Leave  all  that  to  me,”  said  Trevanion  ; “ it  is  a tangled 


HARRY  LOKR&QUER. 


§08 

Web,  but  I think  I can  unravel  it ; meanwhile,  where  does 
the  Militaire  reside  ? for,  among  all  your  pressing  engage- 
ments, this  affair  with  the  Frenchman  must  come  off  first ; 
and  for  this  reason,  although  you  are  not  really  obliged  to 
give  him  satisfaction,  by  his  merely  producing  your  card, 
and  insisting  that  you  are  to  be  responsible  for  the  misdeeds 
of  any  one  who  might  show  it  as  his  own  address,  yet  I look 
upon  it  as  a most  fortunate  thing,  while  charges  so  heavy 
may  be  at  this  moment  hanging  over  your  head,  as  the  pro- 
ceedings of  last  night  involve,  that  you  have  a public  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting  an  antagonist  in  the  field — thereby  evinc- 
ing no  fear  of  publicity,  nor  any  intention  of  absconding; 
for  be  assured  that  the  police  are  at  this  moment  in  posses- 
sion of  what  has  occurred,  and,  from  the  fracas  which  fol- 
lowed, are  well  disposed  to  regard  the  whole  as  a concerted 
scheme  to  seize  upon  the  property  of  the  banque,  a not  un- 
common wind-up  here  after  luck  fails.  My  advice  is,  there- 
fore, meet  the  man  at  once ; I shall  take  care  that  the  pre- 
fect is  informed  that  you  have  been  imposed  upon  by  a per- 
son passing  himself  off  as  your  relative,  and  enter  bail  for 
your  appearance  whenever  you  are  called  upon ; that  being 
done,  we  shall  have  time  for  a moment’s  respite  to  look 
around  us,  and  consider  the  other  bearings  of  this  difficult 
business.” 

“ Here,  then,  is  the  card  of  address,”  said  I ; “'Eugene 
de  Joncourt,  Capitaine  de  Cavalerie,  No.  8,  Chaussee  D’An- 
tin.” 

“ De  Joncourt ! why,  confound  it,  this  is  not  so  pleasant ; 
he  is  about  the  best  shot  in  Paris,  and  a very  steady  swords- 
man besides.  I don’t  like  this.” 

“ But  you  forget,  he  is  the  friend,  not  the  principal  here.” 

“ The  more  good  fortune  yours,”  said  Trevanion,  dryly  ; 
“ for  1 acknowledge  I should  not  give  much  for  your  chance 
at  twenty  paces  opposite  his  pistol ; then,  who  is  the  other?  ” 

“ Le  Baron  d’Haulpenne,”  said  I,  “ and  his  name  is  all 
that  I know  of  him ; his  very  appearance  is  unknown  to 
me.” 

“ I * believe  I am  acquainted  with  him,”  said  Trevanion  ; 
“ but  here  we  are  at  Meurice’s.  Now  I shall  just  write  a few 
lines  to  a legal  friend,  who  will  manage  to  liberate  Mr. 
O’Leary,  whose  services  we  shall  need  ; two  persons  are 
usual  omeach  side  in  this  country,  and  then  4 k l’ouvrage.’  ” 

The  note  written  and  dispatched,  Trevanion  jumped  into  a 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3°9 

Cab,  and  set  out  for  the  Chaussde  Dentin,  leaving  me  to  think 
over,  as  well  as  I could,  the  mass  of  trouble  and  confusion 
that  twenty-four  hours  of  life  in  Paris  had  involved  me  in. 


\ CHAPTER  XXXII. 

EXPLANATION. 

It  was  past  seven  o’clock  when  Trevanion  made  his  ap- 
pearance, accompanied  by  O’Leary  ; and  having  in  few  words 
informed  me  that  a meeting  was  fixed  for  the  following  morn- 
ing, near  St.  Cloud,  proposed  that  we  should  at  once  go  to 
dinner  at  Verey’s,  after  which  we  should  have  plenty  of  time 
to  discuss*  the  various  steps  to  be  taken.  As  we  were  leaving 
the  hotel  for  this  purpose,  a waiter  requested  of  me  to  per- 
mit Mr.  Meurice  to  speak  a few  words  to  me  ; which,  having 
agreed  to,  I entered  the  little  bureau  where  this  czar  of 
hotels  sits  enthroned,  and  what  was  my  surprise  to  learn  the 
request  he  had  to  prefer  was  nothing  less  than  that  I would 
so  far  oblige  him  as  to  vacate  the  room  I possessed  in  the 
hotel,  adding  that  my  compliance  would  confer  upon  him 
the  power  to  accommodate  a “ milor  ” who  had  written  for 
apartments,  and  wras  coming  with  a large  suite  of  servants. 
Suspecting  that  some  rumor  of  the  late  affair  at  Frascati’s 
might  have  influenced  my  friend  Meurice  in  this  unusual 
demand,  I abruptly  refused,  and  was  about  to  turn  away, 
when  he,  perhaps  guessing  that  I had  not  believed  his  state- 
ments, handed  me  an  open  letter,  saying,  “ You  see,  sir,  this 
is  the  letter ; and  as  I am  so  pressed  for  spare  room,  I must 
now  refuse  the  writer.” 

As  my  eye  glanced  at  the  writing,  I started  back  in  amaze- 
ment to  perceive  it  was  in  my  cousin  Guy’s  hand,  requesting 
that  apartments  might  be  retained  for  Sir  Guy  Lorrequer, 
my  uncle,  who  was  to  arrive  in  Paris  by  the  end  of  the  week. 
If  any  doubt  had  remained  on  my  mind  as  to  the  deception 
I had  been  duped  by,  this  would  have  completely  dispelled 
it,  but  I had  long  before  been  convinced  of  the  trick,  and 
only  wondered  how  the  false  Guy — Mr.  Dudley  Morewood — : 
had  contrived  to  present  himself  to  me  so  opportunely,  and 
by  what  means,  in  so  short  a space  of  time,  he  had  become 
acquainted  with  my  personal  appearance. 


3ta 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


As  I mentioned  this  circumstance  of  the  letter  to  Tre< 
vanion,  he  could  not  conceal  his  satisfaction  at  his  sagacity 
in  unravelling  the  mystery,  while  this  new  intelligence  con- 
firmed the  justness  and  accuracy  of  all  his  explanations. 

While  we  walked  along  toward  the  Palais  Royal,  Tre- 
vanion  endeavored,  not  very  successfully,  to  explain  to  my 
friend  O’Leary  the  nature  of  the  trick  which  had  been  || 
practised,  promising,  at  another  time,  some  revelations  con« 
cerning  the  accomplished  individual  who  had  planned  it, 
which,  in  boldness  and  daring,  eclipsed  even  this. 

Any  one  who  in  waking  has  had  the  confused  memory  of 
a dream,  in  which  events  have  been  so  mingled  and  mixed 
as  to  present  no  uniform  narrative,  but  only  a mas£  of 
strange  and  incongruous  occurrences,  without  object  or  con- 
nection, may  form  some  notion  of  the  state  of  restless  ex- 
citement my  brain  suffered  from,  as  the  many  and  conflict- 
ing ideas  my  late  adventures  suggested  presented  them-  $ 
selves  to  my  mind  in  rapid  succession. 

The  glare,  the  noise,  and  the  clatter  of  a French  cafe  are  , 
certainly  not  the  agents  most  in  request  for  restoring  a man 
to  the  enjoyment  of  his  erring  faculties  ; and,  if  I felt  addled 
and  confused  before,  I had  scarcely  passed  the  threshold  of 
Verey’swhen  I became  absolutely  like  one  in  a trance.  The  ; 
large  salon  was  more  than  usually  crowded,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  we  obtained  a place  at  a table,  where  some 
other  English  were  seated,  among  whom  I recognized  my  ' 
lately  made  acquaintance,  Mr.  Edward  Bingham. 

Excepting  a cup  of  coffee,  I had  taken  nothing  the  entire  | 
day,  and  so  completely  did  my  anxieties  of  different  kinds 
subdue  all  appetite  that  the  most  recherchb  viands  of  this  ; 
well-known  restaurant  did  not  in  the  least  tempt  me.  The 
champagne  alone  had  any  attraction  for  me ; and,  seduced  ] 
by  the  icy  coldness  of  the  wine,  I drank  copiously.  This  J 
was  all  that  was  wanting  to  complete  the  maddening  con- 
fusion of  my  brain,  and  the  effect  was  instantaneous  : the  | 
lights  danced  before  my  eyes,  the  lustres  whirled  round,  and 
as  the  scattered  fragments  of  conversation  on  either  side  met 
my  ear,  I was  able  to  form  some  not  very  inaccurate  con-  • 
ception  of  what  insanity  may  be.  Politics  and  literature, 
Mexican  bonds  and  Noblet’s  legs,  Pates  de  perdreaux<va&  the  ] 
quarantine  laws,  the  extreme  gauche  and  the  “ Pains  Chinois { 
Victor  Hugo  and  rouge  et  noir , had  formed  a species  of  grand  j 
ballet  d' action  in  my  fevered  brain,  and  I was  perfectly  beside  I 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


31 1 

myself.  Occasionally,  too,  I would  revert  to  my  own  con- 
cerns, although  I was  scarcely  able  to  follow  up  any  train  of 
thought  for  more  than  a few  seconds  together,  and  totally 
inadequate  to  distinguish  the  false  from  the  true.  I continued 
to  confound  the  counterfeit  with  my  cousin,  and  wonder  how 
my  poor  uncle,  for  whom  I was  about  to  put  on  the  deepest 
mourning,  could  possibly  think  of  driving  me  out  of  my  lodgings. 
Of  my  duel  for  the  mornir  g I had  the  most  shadowy  recollec- 
tions, and  could  not  perfectly  comprehend  whether  it  was 
O’Leary  or  I was  the  principal,  and  indeed  cared  but  little. 
In  this  happy  state  of  independent  existence  I must  have 
passed  a considerable  time,  and,  as  my  total  silence  when 
spoken  to,  or  my  irrelevant  answers,  appeared  to  have  tired 
out  my  companions,  they  left  me  to  the  uninterrupted  enjoy- 
ment of  my  own  pleasant  imaginings. 

“ Do  you  hear,  Lorrequer  ? ” at  last  said  Trevanion.  “ Are 
you  asleep,  my  dear  friend  ? This  gentleman  has  been  good 
enough  to  invite  us  to  breakfast  to-morrow  at  St.  Cloud.” 

I looked  up,  and  was  just  able  to  recognize  the  well- 
trimmed  mustache  of  Mr.  'Edward  Bingham,  as  he  stood 
mumbling  something  before  me.  “ St.  Cloud — what  of  St. 
Cloud?  ” said  I. 

“ We  have  something  in  that  quarter  to  morrow.” 

“ What  is  it,  O’Leary  ? Can  we  go  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! certainly — our  engagement  is  an  early  one.” 

“ We  shall  accept  your  polite  invitation  with  pleasure ” 

Here  he  stooped  over  and  whispered  something  in  my  ear 
—what,  I cannot  say  ; but  I know  that  my  reply,  now  equally 
lost  to  me,  produced  a hearty  fit  of  laughing  to  my  two 
friends. 

My  next  recollection  is  finding  myself  in  a crowded  loge 
at  the  theatre.  It  seems  that  O’Leary  had  acceded  to  a pro- 
posal from  some  of  the  other  party  to  accompany  them  to 
the  Porte  St.  Martin,  where  Mrs.  Bingham  and  her  daughter 
had  engaged  a box.  Amid  all  the  confusion  which  troubled 
thoughts  and  wine  produced  in  me,  I could  not  help  perceiv- 
ing a studied  politeness  and  attention  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Edward  Bingham  toward  me  ; and  my  first  sobering  reflec- 
tion came,  on  finding  that  a place  was  reserved  for  me  beside 
Miss  Bingham,  into  which,  by  some  contrivance  I can  in 
nowise  explain,  I found  myself  almost  immediately  installed. 
To  all  the  excitements  of  champagne  and  punch,  let  the  at- 
tractions of  a French  ballet  be  added,  and  with  a singularly 


3 12 


BARR  V LORREQUER. 


pretty  companion  at  your  side,  to  whom  you  have  already  j 
made  sufficient  advances  to  be  aware  that  you  are  no  longer 
indifferent  to  her,  and  I venture  to  predict  that  it  is  much 
more  likely  your  conversation  will  incline  to  flirting  than  t 
political  economy ; and  moreover,  that  you  make  more  pro-  J 
gress  during  the  performance  of  one  single  pas  de  deux  upon 
the  stage,  than  you  have  hitherto  done  in  ten  morning  calls,  i 
with  an  unexceptionable  whisker  and  the  best  fitting  gloves 
in  Paris.  Alas  ! alas  ! it  is  only  the  rich  man  that  ever  wins  ; 
at  rouge  et  noir . The  well  insured  Indiaman  with  her  cargo  ) 
of  millions  comes  safe  into  port,  while  the  whole  venture  of  I 
some  hardy  veteran  of  the  wave  founders  within  sight  of  his 
native  shore.  So  is  it  ever  ; where  success  would  be  all  and 
everything,  it  never  comes— but  only  be  indifferent  or  regard- 
less, and  fortune  is  at  your  feet,  suing  and  imploring  your  ac- 
ceptance of  her  favors.  What  would  I not  have  given  for  one 
half  of  that  solicitude  now  so  kindly  expressed  in  my  favor 
by  Miss  Bingham,  if  syllabled  by  the  lips  of  Lady  Jane  \ 
Callonby — how  would  my  heart  have  throbbed  for  one  light 
smile  from  one  while  I ungratefully  basked  in  the  openly  J 
avowed  preference  of  the  other.  These  were  my  first 
thoughts — what  were  the  succeeding  ones  ? 

“ Comment  elle  est  belle,”  said  a Frenchwoman,  turning  ' 
round  in  the  box  next  to  us,  and  directing  at  the  same  j 
moment  the  eyes  of  a mustached  hero  upon  my  fair  com- 
panion. 

What  a turn  to  my  thoughts  did  this  unexpected  ejacula-  | 
tion  give  rise  to  ! I now  began  to  consider  her  more  atten-  j 
tively,  and  certainly  concurred  fully  in  the  Frenchwoman's  ■ 
verdict.  I had  never  seen  her  look  half  so  well  before. 
The  great  fault  in  her  features,  which  were  most  classically  ; 
regular,  lay  in  the  monotony  and  uniform  character  of  their  j 
expression.  Now  this  was  quite  changed.  Her  cheeks  were 
slightly  flushed,  and  her  eyes  more  brilliant  than  ever ; while  j 
her  slightly  parted  lips  gave  a degree  of  speaking  earnest-  ] 
ness  to  her  expression  that  made  her  perfectly  beautiful. 

Whether  it  was  from  this  cause  I cannot  say,  but  I cer- 
tainly never  felt  so  suddenly  decided  in  my  life  from  one 
course  to  its  very  opposite,  as  I now  did  to  make  Vaimable 
to  my  lovely  companion.  And  here,  I fear,  I must  acknowl- 
edge, in  the  honesty  of  these  confessional  details,  that  vanity  j 
had  also  its  share  in  the  decision.  To  be  the  admitted  and 
preferred  suitor  of  the  prettiest  woman  in  company  is  gener- 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


3r3 

ally  a strong  inducement  to  fall  desperately  in  love  with  her, 
independently  of  other  temptations  for  so  doing. 

How  far  my  successes  tallied  with  my  good  intentions  in 
this  respect,  I cannot  now  say.  I only  remember  that  more 
than  once  O’Leary  whispered  to  me  something  like  a caution 
of  some  sort  or  other ; but  Emily’s  encouraging  smiles  and 
still  more  Encouraging  speeches  had  far  more  effect  upon  me 
than  all  the  eloquence  of  the  united  service,  had  it  been 
engaged  in  my  behalf,  would  have  effected.  Mrs.  Bingham 
too — who,  to  do  her  justice,  seemed  but  little  cognizant  of 
our  proceedings — from  time  to  time  evinced  that  species  of 
motherly  satisfaction  which  vzry  young  men  rejoice  much  in 
and  older  ones  are  considerably  alarmed  at. 

The  play  over,  O’Leary  charged  himself  with  the  pro- 
tection of  madam,  while  I enveloped  Emily  in  her  cashmere, 
and  drew  her  arm  within  my  own.  What  my  hand  had  to  do 
with  hers  I know  not ; it  remains  one  of  the  unexplained 
difficulties  of  that  eventful  evening.  I have,  it  is  true,  a 
hazy  recollection  of  pressing  some  very  taper  and  delicately 
formed  fingers  ; and  remember,  too,  the  pain  I felt  next 
morning  on  awaking,  by  the  pressure  of  a too  tight  ring, 
which  had,  by  some  strange  accident,  found  its  way  to  my 
finger,  for  which  its  size  was  but  ill  adapted. 

“ You  will  join  us  at  supper,  I hope,”  said  Mrs*.  Bingham, 
as  Trevanion  handed  her  to  her  carriage.  “ Mr.  Lorrequer, 
'•Mr.  O’Leary,  we  shall  expect  you.” 

I was  about  to  promise  to  do  so,  when  Trevanion  suddenly 
interrupted  me,  saying  that  he  had  already  accepted  an  in- 
vitation, which  would,  unfortunately,  prevent  us  ; and  having 
hastily  wished  the  ladies  good-night,  hurried  me  away  so 
abruptly,  that  I had  not  a moment  given  for  even  one  part- 
ing look  at  the  fair  Emily. 

“ Why,  Trevanion,”  said  I,  “ what  invitation  ate  you 
dreaming  of  ? I for  one  should  have  been  delighted  to  have 
gone  home  with  the  Binghams.” 

“ So  I perceive,”  said  Trevanion,  gravely ; “ and  it  was 
for  that  precise  reason  I so  firmly  refused  what,  individually, 
I should  have  been  most  happy  to  accept.” 

“ Then  pray  have  the  goodness  to  explain.” 

“ It  is  easily  done.  You  have  already,  in  recounting  your 
manifold  embarrassments,  told  me  enough  of  these  people, 
to  let  me  see  that  they  intend  you  should  mafry  among  them ; 
and,  indeed,  you  have  gone  quite  far  enough  to  encourage 


3 1 4 HARR  Y L OR  RE  (j>  UER. 

such  an  expectation.  Your  present  excited  state  has  led 
you  sufficiently  far  this  evening,  and  I could  not  answer  for 
your  not  proposing  in  all  form  before  the  supper  was  over ; 
therefore,  I had  no  other  course  open  to  me  than  positively 
to  refuse  Mrs.  Bingham’s  invitation.  But  here  we  are  now 
at  the  ‘ Cadran  Rouge  ; - we  shall  have  our  lobster  and  a glass 
of  Moselle,  and  then  to  bed,  for  we  must  not  forget  that  we 
are  to  be  at  St.  Cloud  by  seven.” 

“ Ah  ! that  is  a good  thought  of  yours  about  the  lobsters,” 
said  O’Leary  ; “ and  now,  as  you  understand  these  matters, 
just  order  supper,  and  let  us  enjoy  ourselves.” 

With  all  the  accustomed  dispatch  of  a restaurant,  a most 
appetizing  petit  souper  made  its  speedy  appearance  ; and  al- 
though now  perfectly  divested  of  the  high  excitement  which 
had  hitherto  possessed  me,  my  spirits  were  excellent,  and  I 
never  more  relished  our  good  fare  and  good  fellowship. 

After  a full  bumper  to  the  health  of  the  fair  Emily  had 
been  proposed  and  drained  by  all  three,  Trevanion  again  ex- 
plained how  much  more  serious  difficulty  would  result  from 
any  false  step  in  that  quarter  than  from  all  my  other  scrapes 
collectively. 

This  he  represented  so  strongly,  that  for  the  first  time  I 
began  to  perceive  the  train  of  ill  consequences  that  must  in- 
evitably result,  and  promised  most  faithfully  to  be  guided  by 
any  counsel  he  might  feel  disposed  to  give  me. 

“ Ah  ! what  a pity,”  said  O’Leary,  “ it  is  not  my  case.  It’s 
very  little  trouble  it  would  cost  any  one  to  break  off  a match 
for  me.  I had  always  a most  peculiar  talent  for  those 
things.” 

“ Indeed  ? ” said  Trevanion.  “ Pray,  may  we  know  your 
secret  ? for  perhaps,  ere  long,  we  may  have  occasion  for  its 
employment.” 

“Tell  it,  by  all  means,”  said  I. 

“ If  I do,”  said  O’Leary,  “ it  will  cost  you  a patient  hearing ; 
for  my  experiences  are  connected  with  two  episodes  in  my 
early  life,  which,  although  not  very  amusing,  are  certainly 
instructive.” 

“ Oh ! by  all  means,  let  us  hear  them,”  said  Trevanion  • 
“ for  we  have  yet  two  bottles  of  chambertin  left,  and  must 
finish  them  ere  we  part.” 

“ Well,  agreed,”  said  O’Leary ; “ only,  once  for  all,  as 
what  I am  about  to  confide  is  strictly  confidential,  you  must 
promise  never  even  to  allude  to  it  hereafter  in  even  the  most 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3*S 


remote  manner,  much  less  indulge  in  any  unseemly  mirth 
at  what  I shall  related 

Having  pledged  ourselves  to  secrecy  and  a becoming 
seriousness,  O’Leary' began  his  story  as  follows: 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MR.  O’LEARY’S  FIRST  LOVE. 

“It  was  during  the  vice-royalty  of  the  late  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond that  the  incidents  I am  about  to  mention  took  place. 
That  was  a few  years  since,  and  I was  rather  younger,  and  a 
little  more  particular  about  my  dress  than  at  present.”  Here 
the  little  man  cast  an  eye  of  stoical  satisfaction  upon  his  un- 
couth habiliments,  that  nearly  made  us  forget  our  compact 
and  laugh  outright.  “Well,  in  those  wild  and  headstrong 
days  of  youthful  ardor,  I fell  in  love — desperately  in  love — 
and  as  always  is,  I believe,  the  case  with  our  early  experi- 
ments in  that  unfortunate  passion,  the  object  of  my  affection 
was  in  every  way  unsuited  to  me.  She  was  a tall,  dark- 
haired, dark-eyed  maiden,  with  a romantic  imagination,  and 
a kind  of  a half-crazed  poetic  fervor,  that  often  made  me 
fear  for  her  intellect.  Fm  a short,  rather  fat — I was  always 
given  this  way  ” — here  he  patted  a waistcoat  that  would  lit 
Daniel  Lambert — “ happy-minded  little  fellow,  that  liked  my 
supper  of  oysters  at  the  Pigeon  House,  and  my  other  creature- 
comforts,  and  hated  everything  that  excited  or  put  one  out 
of  one’s  way,  just  as  I would  have  hated  a blister.  Then, 
the  devil  would  have  it — for  as  certainly  as  marriages  are 
made  in  heaven,  flirtations  have  something  to  say  to  the 
other  place — that  I should  fall  most  irretrievably  in  love  with 
Lady  Agnes  Moreton.  Bless  my  soul,  it  absolutely  puts  me 
in  a perspiration  this  hot  day,  just  to  think  over  all  I went 
Through  on  her  account ; for,  strange  to  say,  the  more  I 
appeared  to  prosper  in  her  good  graces,  the  more  did  she 
exact  on  my  part ; the  pursuit  was  like  Jacob’s  ladder — if  it 
did  lead  to  heaven  it  was  certainly  an  awfully  long  journey, 
and  very  hard  on  one’s  legs.  There  was  not  an  amusement 
she  could  think  of,  no  matter  how  unsuited  to  my  tastes  or 
my  abilities,  that  she  did  not  immediately  take  a violent 


HARRY  LORREQVER . 


316 

fancy  to ; and  then  there  was  no  escaping,  and  I was  at  one£ 
obliged  to  go  with  the  tide ; and  heaven  knows  if  it  would 
not  have  carried  me  to  my  grave  if  it  were  not  for  the'  fort- 
unate (I  now  call  it)  accident  that  broke  off  the  affair  forever. 
One  time  she  took  a fancy  to  yachting,  and  all  the  danglers 
about  her — and  she  always  had  a cordon  of  them — young 
aids-de-camp  of  her  father,  the  general,  and  idle  hussars,  in 
clanking  sabretasches  and  most  absurd  mustaches — all  ap- 
proved of  the  taste,  and  so  kept  filling  her  mind  with  anec- 
dotes of  corsairs  and  smugglers,  that  at  last  nothing  would 
satisfy  her  till  I — I,  who  always  would  rather  have  waited  for 
low  water,  and  waded  the  Liffey  in  all  its  black  mud,  than 
cross  over  in  the  ferry-boat,  for  fear  of  sickness — I was  ob- 
liged to  put  an  advertisement  in  the  newspaper  for  a pleas- 
ure-boat, and,  before  three  weeks,  saw  myself  owner  of  a 
clinker-built  schooner,  of  forty-eight  tons,  that  by  some 
mockery  of  fortune  was  called  4 The  Delight/  I wish  you 
saw  me,  as  you  might  have  done  every  morning  for  about  a 
month,  as  I stood  on  the  custom-house  quay,  giving  orders 
for  the  outfit  of  the  little  craft.  At  first,  as  she  bobbed  and 
pitched  with  the  flood-tide,  I used  to  be  a little  giddy  and 
rather  qualmish,  but  at  last  I learned  to  look  on  without  my 
head  reeling.  I began  to  fancy  myself  very  much  of  a 
sailor,  a delusion  considerably  encouraged  by  a huge  pea- 
jacket  and  a sou’-wester,  both  of  which,  though  it  was  in  the 
dog-days,  Agnes  insisted  upon  my  wearing,  saying  I looked 
more  like  Dirk  Hatteraick,  who,  I understood,  was  one  of 
her  favorite  heroes  in  Walter  Scott.  In  fact,  after  she  sug- 
gested this,  she  and  all  her  friends  called  me  nothing  but 
Dirk. 

“ Well,  at  last,  after  heaven  knows  how  many  excuses  on  my 
part,  and  entreaties  for  delay,  a day  was  appointed  for  our 
first  excursion.  I shall  never  forget  that  day — the  entire 
night  before  it  I did  not  close  my  eyes ; the  skipper  had  told 
me  in  his  confounded  sea-jargon  that  if  the  wind  was  in  one 
quarter,  we  should  have  a short,  tossing  sea ; and  if  in 
another,  a long,  rolling  swell ; and  if  in  a third,  a happy 
#union  of  both — in  fact,  he  made  it  out  that  it  could  not  pos- 
sibly blow  right,  an  opinion  I most  heartily  coincided  in,  and 
most  devoutly  did  I pray  for  a calm  that  would  not  permit  of 
our  stirring  from  our  moorings,  and  thus  mar  our  projected 
party  of  pleasure.  My  prayer  was  unheard,  but  my  hopes 
rose  on  the  other  hand,  for  it  blew  tremendously  during  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3*7 

entire  night ; and  although  there  was  a lull  toward  morning, 
the  sea,  even  in  the  river,  was  considerable. 

“ I had  just  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  I was  safe  for 
this  time,  when  the  steward  poked  his  head  into  the  room 
and  said, 

44  4 Mr.  Brail  wishes  to  know,  sir,  if  he'll  bend  the  main- 
sail to  day,  as  it's  blowing  rather  fresh,  and  he  thinks  the 
spars  light.' 

44  4 Why,  the  devil  take  him,  he  would  not  have  us  go  out 
in  a hurricane ; surely,  Pipes,  we  could  not  take  out  ladies 
to-day  ? ' 

“ 4 Oh,  bless  your  heart,  yes,  sir ; it  blows  a bit,  to  be  sure, 
but  she's  a good  sea-boat,  and  we  can  run  for  Arklow  or  the 
Hook,  if  it  comes  fresher.' 

44  4 Oh,  nonsense,  there's  no  pleasure  in  that ; besides,  I'm 
sure  they  won't  like  it — the  ladies  won't  venture,  you’ll  see.' 

44  4 Ay,  sir,  but  they're  all  on  board  already  ; there's  eight 
ladies  in  the  cabin  and  six  on  deck,  and  as  many  hampers  of 
victuals  and  as  much  crockery  as  if  we  were  a-goin'  to 
Madeira.  Captain  Grantham,  sir,  the  soldier  officer,  with 
the  big  beard,  is  a-mixing  punch  in  the  grog-tub.' 

44  4 From  the  consequences  of  this  day  I proclaim  myself 
innocent,'  said  I,  with  a solemn  voice,  as  I drew  on  my 
duck  trousers,  and  prepared  to  set  out. 

44  4 And  the  mainsail,  sir  ? ' said  the  steward,  not  under- 
standing what  I said. 

44  4 1 care  not  which,'  said  I,  doggedly  ; 4 act  or  part  in  this 
wilful  proceeding  I'll  not  take.' 

44  4 Ay,  ay,  sir,'  said  the  stupid  wretch,  4 then  I’ll  say  you're 
coming,  and  he  may  stretch  the  large  canvas ; for  the  skipper 
says  he  likes  a wet  jacket  when  he  has  gentlemen  out.' 

44  Never  did  a victim  put  on  a flame-colored  garment,  the 
emblem  of  fate,  and  set  out  on  the  march  of  death,  with  a 
heavier  heart,  than  did  I put  on  my  pilot-coat  that  morning 
to  join  my  friends. 

44  My  last  hope  deserted  me  as  I saw  the  little  vessel  lying 
beside  the  quay ; for  I continued  to  trust  that  in  getting  out 
from  the  dock  some  accident  or  mischance  might  occur  to 
spoil  our  sport.  But  no;  there  she  lay  rolling  and  pitching 
in  such  a way,  that  even  at  anchor  they  could  not  stand  on 
the  deck  without  holding.  Amid  the  torrent  of  compliments 
for  the  perfection  of  all  my  arrangements,  and  innumerable 
sweet  things  on  my  taste  in  the  decoration  and  fitting  up  of 


HA  RR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


318 

my  cabin,  I scarcely  felt  myself  afloat  for  some  minutes,  and 
we  got  under  way  amid  a noise  and  uproar  that  absolutely 
prevented  the  possibility  of  thought. 

“ Hitherto  our  destination  had  not  been  mentioned,  and 
as  all  the  party  appealed  to  Lady  Agnes,  I could  not  be  less 
gallant,  and  joined  them  in  their  request. 

“ 4 Well,  then,  what  do  you  think  of  Lambay?  ’ said  she, 
looking  at  the  same  moment  toward  the  skipper. 

“‘We  can  make  it,  my  lady/  said  the  man,  ‘but  we’ll 
have  a roughish  sea  of  it,  for  there’s  a strong  point  of  west- 
ward in  the  wind.’ 

“ ‘ Then  don’t  think  of  it/  said  I.  ‘We  have  come  o.ut  for 
pleasure,  not  to  make  our  friends  sick,  or  terrify  them.  It 
does  very  well  for  us  men.’ 

“ ‘ There  you  are,  Dirk,  with  your  insolent  sneers  about 
woman’s  nerves  and  female  cowardice.  Now,  nothing  but 
Lambay  will  content  me — what  say  you,  ladies  ? ’ 

“ A general  reply  of  approval  met  this  speech,  and  it  was 
carried  by  acclamation. 

“ ‘ Lambay  then  be  it,’  said  I,  with  the  voice  of  a man 
who,  entreating  to  be  shot,  is  informed  that  he  cannot  be 
afforded  that  pleasure,  as  his  sentence  is  to  be  hanged.  But 
I must  hasten  over  these  painful  recollections.  We  dropped 
down  the  river,  and  soon  left  the  light-house  and  its  long 
pier  behind  us,  the  mast  bending  like  a whip,  and  the  sea 
boiling  like  barm  over  the  lee  gunwale.  Still  the  spirits  of 
our  party  only  rose  the  lighter,  and  nothing  but  eulogies 
upon  the  men  and  sailing  of  the  craft  resounded  on  all  sides  ; 
the  din  and  buzz  of  the  conversation  went  on  only  more 
loudly  and  less  restrictedly  than  if  the  party  had  been  on 
shore  ; and  all,  even  myself,  seemed  happy,  for  up  to  this 
moment  I had  not  been  sea-sick,  yet  certain  unpleasant  sen- 
sations, that  alternately  evinced  themselves  in  ,my  stomach 
and  my  head,  warned  me  of  what  was  in  store  for  me.  The 
word  wa*s  now  given  to  tack  ; I was  in  the  act  of  essaying 
a soft  speech  to  Lady  Agnes,  when  the  confounded  cry  arose 
of  ‘ Ready  about,  starboard  there,  let  go  sheets  and  tacks, 
stand  by,  haul.’  The  vessel  plunged  head  foremost  into  the 
boiling  sea,  which  hissed  on  either  bow ; the  heavy  boom 
swung  over,  carrying  my  hat  along  with  it — and  almost  my 
head  too.  The  rest  of  the  party,  possibly  better  informed 
than  myself,  speedily  changed  their  places  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  boat,  while  I remained  holding  off  fast  by  the 


HARR  V L ORREQ  UER . 


3*9 

gunwale,  till  the  sea,  rushing  over  what  was  now  become  the 
lee  side,  carried  me  head  over  heels  into  the  shingle  ballast 
in  the  waist.  Lord,  how  they  did  laugh.  Agnes,  too,  who 
never  before  could  get  beyond  a very  faint  smile,  grew  almost 
hysterical  at  my  performance.  As  for  me,  I only  wanted 
this  to  complete  my  long  threatened  misfortune  ; sea-sickness, 
in  all  its  most  miserable  forms,  set  in  upon  me,  and  ere  half 
an  hour  I lay  upon  that  heap  of  small  stones,  as  indifferent 
to  all  around  and  about  me  as  though  I was  dead.  Oh,  the 
long  dreary  hours  of  that  melancholy  day ! it  seemed  like  a 
year.  They  tacked  and  tacked,  they  were  beat  and  tacked 
again,  the  sea  washing  over  me,  and  the  ruffianly  sailors 
trampling  upon  me  without  the  slightest  remorse,  whenever 
they  had  any  occasion  to  pass  back  or  forward.  From  my 
long  trance  of  suffering  I was  partly  roused  by  the  steward 
shaking  my  shoulder,  saying  : 

“ 4 The  gentlemen  wish  to  know,  sir,  if  you’d  like  summat 
to  eat,  as  they’re  a-goin’  to  have  a morsel ; we  are  getting  into 
slack  water  now.’ 

“ 6 Where  are  we  ? ’ I replied,  in  a sepulchral  voice. 

“ Off  the  Hook,  sir  ; we  have  had  a most  splendid  run,  but 
I fear  we’ll  catch  it  soon  ; there’s  some  dirty  weather  to  the 
westward.’ 

“ 4 God  grant  it,’  said  I,  piously,  and  in  a low  tone. 

“ 4 Did  you  say  you’d  have  a bite  to  eat,  sir  ? ’ 

“ ‘ No  ! Eat— am  I a cannibal  ? Eat — go  away  1 Mark 
me,  my  good  fellow,  I’ll  pay  you  your  wages,  if  ever  we  get 
ashore  ; you’ll  never  set  another  foot  aboard  with  me.’ 

“ The  man  looked  perfectly  astounded  as  he  moved  away, 
and  my  thoughts  were  soon  engrossed  by  the  proceedings 
near  me.  The  rattle  of  knives  and  the  jingling  of  plates  and 
glasses  went  on  very  briskly  for  some  time,  accompanied  by 
various  pleasant  observations  of  my  guests,  for  such  I judged 
them,  from  the  mirth  which  ever  followed  them.  At  last  I 
thought  I heard  my  name,  or  at  least  what  they  pleased  to 
use  as  its  substitute,  mentioned.  I strained  my  ears  to  listen, 
and  learned  that  they  were  planning  to  talk  over  the  pre- 
tended intention  to  run  for  Cowes,  and  see  the  regatta.  This 
they  discussed  then,  for  about  twenty  minutes,  in  a loud  voice, 
purposely  to  see  its  effects  upon  me  ; but  as  I was  now  aware 
of  the  trick,  I gave  no  sign’  of  any  intelligence. 

“ 4 Poor  Dirk  ! ’ said  Grantham  ; ‘ I believe  by  this  time  he 
cares  very  little  which  way  her  head  lies ; but  here  comes 


326 


EfARR  y L ORREQ  UER.  j 

something  better  than  all  our  discussions.  Lady  Agnes,  sit 
here.  Miss  Pelham,  here’s  a dry  cushion  for  you.  Did  you 
say  a wing,  Lady  Mary  ? * 

“ Now  began  the  clash  and  clatter  of  dinner  ; champagne 
corks  popping,  glasses  ringing,  and  all  that  peculiar  admixture 
of  fracas  and  fun  which  accompanies  a scrambled  meal. 
How  they  did  laugh  and  eat,  ay,  and  drink  too.  G/s  punch 
seemed  to  have  its  success,  for,  sick  as  I was,  I could  per- 
ceive the  voices  of  the  men  grow  gradually  louder,  and  dis- 
covered that  two  gentlemen  who  had  been  remarkably  timid 
in  the  morning,  and  scarcely  opened  their  lips,  were  now 
rather  uproariously  given,  and  one  even  proposed  to  sing. 

If  any  man,  thought  I,  were  to  look  for  an  instant^at  the 
little  scene  now  enacting  here,  what  a moral  might  he  reap 
from  it ; talk  of  the  base  ingratitude  of  the  world,  you  can- 
not say  too  much  of  it.  Who  would  suppose  that  it  was  my 
boat  these  people  were  assembled  in  ; that  it  Was  my  cham- 
pagne these  people  were  drinking ; that  my  venison  and  my 
pheasants  were  feeding  those  lips,  which  rarely  spoke,  except 
to  raise  a jest  at  my  expense.  My  chagrin  increased  my 
sickness,  and  my  sickness  redoubled  my  chagrin. 

“ 6 Mr.  Brail/  said  I,  in  a low  whisper,  i Mr.  Brail/ 

“ ‘ Did  you  speak,  sir  ? ’ said  he,  with  about  as  much  sur- 
prise in  his  manner  as  though  he  had  been  addressed  by  a 
corpse. 

“ ‘ Mr.  Brail/  said  I,  ‘ is  there  any  danger  here  ? ’ 

“ i Lord  love  you,  no,  sir ; she’s  walking  Spanish,  and  the 
sea  going  down  ; we  shall  have  lovely  weather,  and  they’re 
all  enjoying  it,  sir — the  ladies/ 

“ ‘ So  I perceive/  said  I,  with  a groan ; ‘so  I perceive  ; 
but,  Mr.  Brail,  could  you  do  nothing — just  to — to — startle 
them  a little,  I mean  for  fun  only  ? Just  ship  a heavy  sea 
or  two : I don’t  care  for  a little  damage,  Mr.  Brail,  and  if  it 
were  to  wash  over  the  dinner-service,  and  all  the  wine,  I 
should  not  like  it  worse/ 

“‘Why,  sir,  you  are  getting  quite  funny,  the  sickness  is 
going/ 

“ ‘ No,  Mr.  Brail,  worse  than  ever,  my  head  is  in  two  pieces, 
and  my  stomach  in  the  back  of  my  mouth  ; but  I should  like 
you  to  do  this — so  just  manage  it,  will  you,  and  there’s  twenty 
pounds  in  my  pocket-book,  you  can  have  it ; there  now,  won’t 
you  oblige  me  ? — -and  hark  ye,  Mr.  Brail — if  Captain  Grant- 
ham were  to  be  washed  over  by  mere  accident,  it  cannot  be 


fe  / 

HARR  Y LORREQUER . $2t 

helped  ; accidents  are  always  occurring  in  boating  parties. 
Go  now,  you  know  what  I mean/ 

“ ‘ But,  sir/  began  he. 

“ ‘ Well,  then,  Mr.  Brail,  you  won’t — very  well — now  all  I 
have  to  say  is  this  : that  the  moment  I can  find  strength  to 
do  it,  I’ll  stave  out  a plank  ; I’ll  scuttle  the  vessel,  that’s  all ; 
I have  made  up  my  mind,  and  look  to  yourselves  now/ 

“ Saying  these  words,  I again  threw  myself  upon  the  ballast? 
and,  as  the  gay  chorus  of  a drinking  song  was  wafted  across 
me,  prayed  devoutly  that  we  might  all  go  down  to  the  bottom. 
The  song  over,  I heard  a harsh,  gruff  voice  mixing  with  the 
more  civilized  tones  of  the  party,  and  soon  perceived  that 
Mr.  Brail  was  recounting  my  proposal  amid  the  most  up- 
roarious shouts  of  laughter  I ever  listened  to.  Then  followed 
a number  of  pleasant  suggestions  for  my  future  management ; 
one  proposing  to  have  me  tried  for  mutiny,  and  sentenced  to 
a ducking  over  the  side,  another  that  I should  be  tarred  on 
my  back*  to  which  the  latter  most  humane  notion  the. fair 
Agnes  subscribed,  averring  that  she  was  resolved  upon  my 
deserving  my  sobriquet  of  Dirk  Hatteraick.  My  wrath  was 
now  the  master  even  of  deadly  sickness.  I got  upon  my 
knees,  and  having  in  vain  tried  to  reach  my  legs,  I struggled 
aft.  In  this  posture  did  I reach  the  quarter-deck.  What 
rny  intention  precisely  was  in  this  excursion,  I have-  no  notion 
of  now,  but  I have  some  very  vague  idea,  that  I meant  to 
react  the  curse  of  Kehama  upon  the  whole  party.  At  last 
I mustered  strength  to  rise  ; but,  alas  ! I had  scarcely  reached 
the  standing  position,  when  a tremendous  heel  of  the  boat  to 
one  side  threw  me  into  the  gunwale,  and  before  I was  able 
to  recover  my  balance,  a second  lurch  pitched  me  headlong 
into  the  sea.  I have,  thank  God,  no  further  recollection  of 
my  misfortunes.  When  I again  became  conscious  I found  my- 
self wrrapped  up  in  a pilot-coat,  while  my  clothes  were  drying  ; 
the  vessel  was  at  anchor,  in  Wexford.  My  attached  friends 
had  started  for  town  with  post-horses,  leaving  me  no  less 
cured  of  love  than  aquatics. 

“ ‘ The  Delight  ’ passed  over  in  a few  days  to  some  more 
favored  son  of  Neptune,  and  I hid  my  sh^me  and  my  mis- 
fortunes by  a year’s  tour  on  the  Continenf.” 

“ Although  I acknowledge,”  said  Trevanion,  “ that  hither- 
to I have  reaped  no  aid  from  Mr.  O’Leary’s  narrative,  yet  I 
think  it  is  not  without  a moral.” 

“ Well*  but,”  said  I,  “ he  has  got  another  adventure  to  tell 


322  HARRY  LORREQUER, 

us  ; we  have  quite  time  for  it,  so  pray  pass  the  wine  and  let 
us  have  it.” 

“ I have  just  finished  the  Burgundy,”  said  O’Leary,  a and 
if  you  will  ring  for  another  flask,  I have  no  objection  to  let 
you  hear  the  story  of  my  second  love.” 


GHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MR.  O’LEARY’S  SECOND  LOVE. 

“ You  may  easily  suppose,”  began  Mr.  O’Leary,  “ that  the 
unhappy  termination  of  my  first  passion  served  as  a shield 
to  me  for  a long  time  against  my  unfortunate  tendencies 
toward  the  fair,  and  such  was  really  the  case.  I never 
spoke  to  a young  lady  for  three  years  after,  without  a reeling 
in  my  head,  so  associated  in  my  mind  was  love  and  sea-sick- 
ness. However,  at  last,  what  will  not  time  do  ? It  was 
about  four  years  from  the  date  of  this  adventure,  when  I be- 
came so  oblivious  of  my  former  failure,  as  again  to  tempt 
my  fortune.  My  present  choice,  in  everyway  unlike  the  last, 
was  a gay,  lively  girl,  of  great  animal  spirits,  and  a con- 
siderable turn  for  raillery,  that  spared  no  one  ; the  members 
of  her  own  family  were  not  even  sacred  in  her  eyes ; and  her 
father,  a reverend  dean,  as  frequently  figured  among  the 
ludicrous  as  his  neighbors. 

“ The  Evershams  had  been  very  old  friends  of  a rich  aunt 
of  mine,  who  never,  by  the  by,  had  condescended  to  notice 
me  till  I made  their  acquaintance  ; but  no  sooner  had  I done 
so  than  she  sent  for  me,  and  gave  me  to  understand  that  in 
the  event  of  my  succeeding  to  the  hand  of  Fanny  Eversham, 
I should  be  her  heir  and  the  possessor  of  about  sixty  thousand 
pounds.  She  did  not  stop  here  ; but  by  canvassing  the  dean 
in  my  favor,  speedily  put  the  matter  on  a most  favorable 
footing,  and  in  less  than  two  months  I was  received  as  the 
accepted  suitor  of  the  fair  Fanny,  then  one  of  the  reigning 
belles  of  Dublin. 

“ They  lived  at  this  time  about  three  miles  from  town,  .in 
a very  pretty  country,  where  I used  to  pass  all  my  morn- 
ings, and  many  of  my  everiings,  too,  in  a state  of  happiness 
that  I should  have  considered  perfect,  if  it  were  not  for  two 
unhappy  blots — one,  the  taste  of  my  betrothed  for  laughing 


HARR  Y LORRhQUER. 


3*3 


at  her  friends  ; another,  the  diabolical  propensity  of  my  in- 
tended father-in-law  to  talk  politics ; to  the  former  I could 
submit ; but  with  the  latter  submission  only  made  bad  worse  ; 
for  he  invariably  drew  up  as  I receded,  dryly  observing  that 
with  men  who  had  no  avowed  ppinions  it  was  ill-agreeing  ; 
or  that,  with  persons  who  kept  their  politics  as  a school-boy 
does  his  pocket-money,  never  to  spend,  and  always  ready  to 
change,  it  was  unpleasant  to  dispute.  Such  taunts  as  these 
l submitted  to,  as  well  I might ; secretly  resolving,  that  as  I 
iow  knew  the  meaning  of  whig  and  tory,  I’d  contrive  to  spend 
my  life,  after  marriage,  out  of  the  worthy  dean’s  diocese. 

“ Time  wore  on,  and  at  length,  to  my  most  pressing 
solicitations,  it  was  conceded  that  a day  for  our  marriage 
should  be  appointed.  Not  even  the  unlucky  termination  of 
this  my  second  love  affair  can  deprive  me  of  the  happy 
souvenir  of  the  few  weeks  which  were  to  intervene  before 
our  destined  union. 

“ The  mornings  were  passed  in  ransacking  all  the  shops 
where  wedding  finery  could  be  procured — laces,  blondes, 
velvets,  and  satins  littered  every  corner  of  the  deanery — and 
there  was  scarcely  a carriage  in  a coach-maker’s  yard  in  the 
city  that  I had  not  sat  and  jumped  in,  to  try  the  springs,  by 
the  special  direction  of  Mrs.  Eversham,  who  never  ceased  to 
impress  me  with  the  awful  responsibility  I was  about  to  take 
upon  me,  in  marrying  so  great  a prize  as  her  daughter — a 
feeling  I found  very  general  among  many  of  my  friends  at 
the  Kildare  Street  club. 

44  Among  the  many  indispensable  purchases  which  I was 
to  make,  and  about  which  Fanny  expressed  herself  more 
than  commonly  anxious,  was  a saddle-horse  for  me.  She 
was  a great  horsewoman,  and  hated  riding  with  only  a serv- 
ant ; and  had  given  me  to  understand  as  much  about  half  a 
dozen  times  each  day  for  the  last  five  weeks.  How  shall  I 
acknowledge  it — equestrianism  was  never  my  forte.  I had 
all  my  life  considerable  respect  for  the  horse  as  an  animal, 
pretty  much  as  I dreaded  a lion  or  a tiger;  but  as  to  any 
intention  of  mounting  upon  the  back  of  one,  and  taking  a 
ride,  T should  as  sobn  ha^e  dreamed  of  taking  an  airing  upon 
a giraffe  ; and  as  tp  the  thought  of  buying,  feeding,  and 
maintaining  such  a beast  at  my  own  proper  cost,  I should 
just  as  soon  have  determined  to  purchase  a pillory  ora  duck- 
ing-stool, by  way  of  amusing  my  leisure  hours. 

“ However,  Fanny  was  obstinate — whether  she  suspected 


3 24 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


anything  or  not  I cannot  say — but  nothing  seemed  to  turn 
her  from  her  purpose  ; and  although  I pleaded  a thousand 
things  in  delay,  yet  she  grew  each  day  more  impatient,  and 
at  last  I saw  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  submit. 

“ When  I arrived  at  this  last  bold  resolve,  I could  not 
help  feeling  that  to  possess  a horse,  and  not  be  able  to  mount 
him,  was  only  deferring  the -ridicule  ; and  as  I had  so  often 
expressed  the  difficulty  I felt  in  suiting  myself  as  a cause  of 
my  delay,  I could  not  possibly  come  forward  with  anything 
very  objectionable,  or  I should  be  only  the  more  laughed  at. 
There  was,  then,  but  one  course  to  take ; a fortnight  still 
intervened  before  the  day  which  was  to  make  me  happy,  and 
I accordingly  resolved  to  take  lessons  in  riding  during  the 
interval,  and  by  every  endeavor  in  my  power  become,  if 
possible,  able  to  pass  muster  on  the  saddle  before  my 
bride. 

. “ Poor  old  Lalouette  understood  but  little  of  the  urgency 
of  the  case,  when  I requested  his  leave  to  take  my  lessons 
each  morning  at  six  o’clock,  for  I dared  not  absent  myself 
during  the  day  without  exciting  suspicion ; and  never,  I will 
venture  to  assert,  did  knight-errant  of  old  strive  harder  for 
the  hand  of  his  lady-love  than  did  I during  that  weary  fort- 
night ; if  a hippogriff  had  been  the  animal  I bestrode,  instead 
of  being,  as  it  was,  an  old  wall-eyed  gray,  I could  not  have 
felt  more  misgivings  at  my  temerity,  or  more  proud  of  my 
achievement.  In  the  first  three  days  the  unaccustomed  exer- 
cise proved  so  severe,  that  when  I reached  the  deanery  I could 
hardly  move,  and  crossed  the  floor  pretty  much  as  a pair  of 
compasses  might  be  supposed  to  do  if  performing  that  exploit. 
Nothing,  however,  could  equal  the  kindness  of  my  poor  dear 
mother-in-law  in  embryo,  and  even  the  dean  too.  Fanny,  in- 
deed, said  nothing  ; but  I rather  think  she  was  disposed  to 
giggle  a little ; but  my  rheumatism,  as  it  was  called,  was  daily 
inquired  after,  and  I was  compelled  to  take  some  infernal 
stuff  in. my  port  wine,  at  dinner,  that  nearly  made  me  sick  at 
table.” 

44  4 I am  sure  you  walk  too  much,’  said  Fanny,  with  one  of 
her  knowing  looks.  4 Papa,  don’t  you  think  he  ought  to  ride  ? 
it  would  be  much  better  for  him.’ 

44 4 1 do,  my  dear,’  said  the  dean.  4 But  then  you  see  he  is 
so  hard  to  be  pleased  in  a horse.  Your  old  hunting  days  have 
spoiled  you;  but  you  must  forget  Melton  and  Grantham,  and 
condescend  to  keep  a hack/ 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


3^ 


u I must  have  looked  confoundedly  foolish  here,  for  Fanny 
never  took  her  eyes  off  me,  and  continued  to  laugh  in  her 
own  wicked  way. 

“ It  was  now  about  the  ninth  or  tenth  day  of  my  purgato- 
rial performances  ; and  certainly,  if  there  be  any  merit  in 
fleshly  mortifications,  these  religious  exercises  of  mine  should 
stand  my  part  hereafter.  A review  had  been  announced  in 
the  Phoenix  Park,  which  Fanny  had  expressed  herself  most 
desirous  to  witness  ; and  as  the  dean  would  not  permit  her  to 
go  without  a chaperon,  I had  no  means  of  escape,  and  prom- 
ised to  escort  her.  No  sooner  had  I made  this  rash  pledge 
than  I hastened  to  my  confidential  friend,  Lalouette,  and  hav- 
ing imparted  to  him  my  entire  secret,  asked  him  in  a solemn 
and  imposing  manner,  4 Can  I do  it  ? ’ The  old  man  shook 
his  head  dubiously,  looked  grave,  and  muttered  at  length, 
4 Mosch  depend  on  de  horse.’  4 1 know  it — I know  it — I feel 
it,’  said  I,  eagerly — 4 then  where  are  we  to  find  an  animal  that 
will  carry  me  peaceably  through  this  awful  day  ? I care  not 
for  his  price.’ 

44  4 Votre  affaire  ne  sera  pas  trop  chere,’  said  he. 

44  4 Why,  how  do  you  mean  ? ’ said  I. 

“ He  then  proceeded  to  inform  me  that,  by  a singularly  for- 
tunate chance,  there  took  place  that  day  an  auction  of  4 cast 
horses,’  as  they  are  termed,  which  had  been  used  in  the  horse 
police  force ; and  that  from  long  riding  and  training  to  stand 
fire,  nothing  could  be  more  suitable  than  one  of  these,  being 
both  easy  to  ride^and  not  given  to  start  at  noise. 

44 1 could  have  almost  hugged  the  old  fellow  for  his  happy 
suggestion,  and  waited  with  impatience  for  three  o’clock  to 
come,  when  we  repaired  together  to  Essexbridge,  at  that  time 
the  place  selected  for  these  sales. 

44 1 was  at  first  a little  shocked  at  t\\e  look  of  the  animals 
drawn  up ; they  were  most  miserably  thin,  most  of  them 
swelled  in  the  legs,  few  without  sore  backs,  and  not  one  eye 
on  an  average  in  every  three ; but  still  they  were  all  high- 
steppers,  and  carried  a great  tail.  4 There’s  your  affaire,’ 
said  the  old  Frenchman,  as  a long-legged,  fiddle-headed  beast 
was  led  out ; turning  out  his  forelegs  so  as  to  endanger  the 
man  who  walked  beside  him. 

44  4 Yes,  there’s  blood  for  you,’  said  Charley  Dycer,  seeing 
my  eye  fixed  on  the  wretched  beast ; 4 equal  to  fifteen  stone 
with  any  fox-hounds ; safe  in  all  his  paces,  and  warranted 
£pund  ; except,’  added  he,  in  a whisper,  4 a slight  spavin  in 


HARRY  LORRE^CJER. 


p6 

both  hind  legs,  ring-bone,  and  a little  touched  in  the  wind.1 
Here  the  animal  gave  an  approving  cough.  4 Will  any  gentle- 
man say  fifty  pounds  to  begin  ? ’ But  no  gentleman  did.  A 
hackney-coachman,  however,  said  five,  and  the  sale  was 
opened ; the  beast  trotting  up  and  down  nearly  over  the  bid- 
ders at  every  moment,  and  plunging  on  so  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  know  what  was  doing. 

“ ‘ Five,  ten — fifteen — six  pounds — thank  you,  sir — guineas  ’ 
— ‘ seven  pounds/  said  I,  bidding  against  myself,  not  perceiv- 
ing that  I had  spoken  last.  4 Thank  you,  Mr.  Moriarty/  said 
Dycer,  turning  toward  an  invisible  purchaser  supposed  to  be 
in  the  crowd.  ‘Thank  you,  sir,  you'll  not  let  a good  one  go 
that  way.’  Every  one  here  turned  to  find  out  the  very  know- 
ing gentleman  ; but  he  could  nowhere  be  seen. 

Dycer  resumed,  ‘ Seven  ten,  for  Mr.  Moriarty.  Going 
for  seven  ten — a cruel  sacrifice — cthere’s  action  for  you — play- 
ful beast.'  Here  the  devil  had  stumbled  and  nearly  killed 
a basket-woman  with  two  children. 

“ ‘ Eight/  said  I,  with  a loud  voice. 

“ ‘ Eight  pounds,  quite  absurd/  said  Dycer,  almost  rudely; 
* a charger  like  that  for  eight  pounds — going  for  eight  pounds 
— going — nothing  above  eight  pounds — no  reserve,  gentle 
men,  you  are  aware  of  that.  They  are  all,  as  it  were,  Eis 
majesty’s  stud — no  reserve  whatever — last  time,  eight  pounds 
— gone.’ 

“ Amid  a very  hearty  cheer  from  the  mob — God  knows  why, 
but  a Dublin  mob  always  cheer — I returned,  accompanied  by 
a ragged  fellow,  leading  my  new  purchase  after  me  with  a 
hay  halter. 

“ ‘ What  is  the  meaning  of  those  letters/  said  I,  pointing 
to  a very  conspicuous  G.  R.,  with  sundry  other  enigmatical 
signs,  burned  upon  the  animal’s  hind  quartet. 

“ ‘ That’s  to  show"he  was  a po-lis,’  said  the  fellow,  with  a 
grin ; ‘ and  when  ye  ride  with  ladies,  ye  must  turn  the  decoy 
side.’ 

“ The  auspicious  morning  at  last  arrived ; and,  strange  to 
say,  that  the  first  waking  thought  was  of  the  unlucky  day  that 
ushered  in  my  yachting  excursion,  four  years  before.  Why 
this  was  so  I cannot  pretend  to  guess  ; there  was  but  little 
analogy  in  the  circumstances,  at  least  so  far  as  anything  had 
then  gone.  ‘ How  is  Marius  ? ’ said  I to  my  servant,  as  he 
opened  my  shutters.  Here  let  me  mention  that  a friend  oi 
the  Kildare  Street  club  had  suggested  this  name  from  the 


HARRY  LORREQUER.  327 

remarkably  classic  character  of  my  steed’s  countenance  ; his 
nose,  he  assured  me,  was  perfectly  Roman. 

44  ‘ Marius  is  doing  finely,  sir,  barring  his  cough,  and  the 
trifle  that  ails  his  hind  legs.’ 

44  4 He’ll  carry  me  quietly,  Simon  ; eh  ? ’ 

44  4 Quietly  ! I’ll  warrant  he’ll  carry  you  quietly,  if  that’s 
all.’ 

44  Here  was  comfort,  certainly.  Simon  had  lived  forty 
years  as  pantry  boy  with  my  mother,  and  knew  a great  deal 
about  horses.  I dressed  myself,  therefore,  in  high  spirits  ; 
and  if  my  pilot  jacket  and  oil-skin  cap  in  former  days  had 
half  persuaded  me  that  I was  born  for  marine  achievements, 
certainly  my  cords  and  tops,  that  morning,  went  far  to  con- 
vince me  that  I must  have  once  been  a very  keen  sportsman 
somewhere,  without  knowing  it.  It  was  a delightful  July  day 
that  I set  out  to  join  my  friends,  who,  having  recruited  a 
large  party,  were  to  rendezvous  at  the  corner  of  Stephen’s 
Green  ; thither  I proceeded  in  a certain  ambling  trot,  which  I 
have  often  observed  is  a very  favorite  pace  with  timid  horse- 
men, and  gentlemen  of  the  medical  profession.  I was  hailed 
with  a most  hearty  welcome  by  a large  party  as  I turned  out 
of  Grafton  Street,  among  whom  I perceived  several  friends  of 
Miss  Eversham,  and  some  young  dragoon  officers,  not  of  my 
acquaintance,  but  who  appeared  to  know  Fanny  intimately, 
and  were  laughing  heartily  with  her  as  I rode  up. 

44  I don’t  know  if  other  men  have  experienced  what  I am 
about  to  mention  or  not ; but  certainly  to  me  there  is  no  more 
painful  sensation  than  to  find  yourself  among  a number  of 
well-mounted,  well-equipped  people,  while  the  animal  you 
yourself  bestride  seems  only  fit  for  the  kennel.  Every  look 
that  is  cast  at  your  unlucky  steed — every  whispered  observa- 
tion about  you  are  so  many  thorns  in  your  flesh,  till  at  last 
you  begin  to  feel  that  your  appearance  is  for  very  little  else 
than  the  amusement  and  mirth  of  the  assembly  ; and  every 
time  you  rise  in  your  stirrups  you  excite  a laugh. 

44  4 Where,  for  mercy’s  sake,  did  you  find  that  creature  ? ’ 
said  Fanny,  surveying  Marius  through  her  glass. 

44  4 Oh,  him,  eh  ? Why,  he  is  a handsome  horse,  if  in  con- 
dition— a charger,  you  know — that’s  his  style.’ 

44  4 Indeed,’  lisped  a young  lancer,  4 1 should  be  devilish 
sorry  to  charge,  or  be  charged  with  him.’  And  here  they  all 
chuckled  at  this  puppy’s  silly  joke,  and  I drew  up  to  repress 
further  liberties. 


328 


HARRY  LORREQUER, 


“ 4 Is  he  anything  of  a fencer  ? ’ said  a young  country 
gentleman. 

“ ‘ To  judge  from  his  near  eye,  I should  say  much  more  of 
a boxer/  said  another. 

“ Here  commenced  a running  fire  of  pleasantry  at  the  ex- 
pense of  my  poor  steed  ; which,  not  content  with  attacking 
his  physical,  extended  to  his  moral  qualities.  An  old  gentle- 
man near  me  observing,  ‘ that  I ought  not  to  have  mounted 
him  at  all,  seeing  he  was  so  dquced  groggy ; * to  which  I 
replied,  by  insinuating,  that  if  others  present  were  as  free 
from  the  influence  of  ardent  spirits,  society  would  not  be  a 
sufferer  ; an  observation  that,  I flatter  myself,  turned  the  mirth 
against  the  old  fellow,  for  they  all  laughed  for  a quarter  of 
an  hour  after. 

“ Well,  at  last  we  set  out  in  a brisk  trot,  and,  placed  near 
Fanny,  I speedily  forgot  all  my  annoyances  in  the  prospect 
of  figuring  to  advantage  before  her.  When  we  reached  the 
College  Green  the  leaders  of  the  cortege  suddenly  drew  up, 
and  we  soon  found  that  the  entire  street  opposite  the  Bank 
was  filled  with  a dense  mob  of  people,  who  appeared  to  be 
swayed  hither  and  thither,  like  some  mighty  beast,  as  the 
individuals  composing  it  were  engaged  in  close  conflict.  It 
was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  one  of  those  almost  weekly 
rows  which  then  took  place  between'the  students  of  the  Uni- 
versity and  the  town’s-people,  and  which  rarely'ended  with- 
out serious  consequences.  The  numbers  of  people  pressing 
on  to  the  scene  of  action  soon  blocked  up  our  retreat,  and 
we  found  ourselves -most  unwilling  spectators  of  the  conflict, 
Political  watchwords  were  loudly  shouted  by  each  party  ; 
and  at  last  the  students,  who  appeared  to  be  yielding  to 
superior  numbers,  called  out  for  the  intervention  of  the 
police.  The  aid  was  nearer  than  they  expected  ; for  at  the 
same  instant  a body  of  mounted  policemen,  whose  high  hel- 
mets rendered  them  sufficiently  conspicuous,  were  seen  trot- 
ting at  a sharp  pace  down  Dame  Street.  On  they  came  with 
drawn  sabres,  led  by  a well-looking  gentleman-like  personage 
in  plain  clothes,  who  dashed  at  once  into  the  middle  of  the 
fray,  issuing  his  orders,  and  pointing  out  to  his  followers  to 
secure  the  ringleaders.  Up  to  this  moment  I had  been  a 
most  patient  and  rather  amused  spectator  of  what  was  doing. 
Now,  however,  my  part  was  to  commence,  for  at  the  word 
i Charge/  given  in  a harsh,  deep  voice  by  the  sergeant  of  the 
party,  Marius,  remembering  his  ancient  instinct,  pricked  up 


HARR  Y L ORREQ UER, 


329 

his  ears,  cocked  his  tail,  flung  up  both  his  hind  legs  till  they 
nearly  broke  the  Provost’s  windows,  and  plunged  into  the 
thickest  of  the  fray  like  a devil  incarnate. 

u Self-preservation  must  be  a strong  instinct,  for  I well 
remember  how  little  pain  it  cost  me  to  see  the  people  tum- 
bling and  rolling  beneath  me,  while  I continued  to  keep  my 
seat.  It  was  only  a moment  before,  and  that  immense  mass 
were  a man  to  man  encounter,  now  all  the  indignation  of 
both  parties  seemed  turned  upon  me  ; brick-bats  were  loudly 
implored,  and  paving-stones  begged  to  throw  at  my  devoted 
head  ; the  wild  huntsman  of  the  German  romance  never 
created  half  the  terror,  nor  one-tenth  of  the  mischief  that  I 
did  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes,  for  the  ill-starred  beast  con- 
tinued twining  and  twisting  like  a serpent,  plunging  and 
kicking  the  entire  time,  and  occasionally  biting,  too  ; all 
which  accomplishments,  I afterward  learned,  however  little 
in  request  in  civil  life,  are  highly  prized  in  the  horse  police. 

44  Every  new  order  of  the  sergeant  was  followed  in  his 
own  fashion  by  Marius,  who  very  soon  contrived  to  concen- 
trate in  my  unhappy  person  all  the  interest  of  about  fifteen 
hundred  people. 

44 4 Secure  that  scoundrel,’  said  the  magistrate,  pointing  with 
his  finger  toward  me,  as  I rode  over  a respectable  looking 
old  lady,  with  a gray  muff.  4 Secure  him.  Cut  him  down.’ 

“ 4 Ah,  devil’s  luck  to  him,  if  ye  do,’  said  a newsmonger  with 
a broken  shin. 

44  On  I went,  however  ; and  now,  as  the  Fates  would  have 
it,  instead  of  bearing  me  out  of  further  danger,  the  con- 
founded brute  dashed  onward  to  where  the  magistrate  was 
standing,  surrounded  by  policemen.  I thought  I saw  him 
change  color  as  I came  on.  I suppose  my  own  looks  were 
none  of  the  pleasantest,  for  the  worthy  man  evidently  liked 
them  not.  Into  the  midst  of  them  we  plunged,  upsetting  a 
corporal,  horse  and  all,  and  appearing  as  if  bent  upon  reach- 
ing the  alderman. 

44  4 Cut  him  down,  for  Heaven’s  sake.  Will  nobody  shoot 
him  ? ’ said  he,  with  a voice  trembling  with  fear  and  anger. 

44  At  these  words  a wretch  lifted  up  his  sabre,  and  made  a 
cut  at  my  head.  I stooped  suddenly,  and  throwing  myself 
from  the  saddle,  seized  the  poor  alderman  round  the  neck, 
and  both  came  rolling  to  the  ground  together.  So  com- 
pletely was  he  possessed  with  the  notion  that  I meant  to 
assassinate  him,  that  while  I was  endeavoring  to  extricate 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


33° 

myself  from  his  grasp,  he  continued  to  beg  his  life  in  the 
most  heartrending  manner. 

“ My  story  is  now  soon  told.  So  effectually  did  they 
rescue  the  alderman  from  his  danger  that  they  left  me  insen- 
sible, and  I only  came  to  myself  some  days  after  by  finding 
myself  in  the  dock  in  Green  Street,  charged  with  an  indict- 
ment of  nineteen  counts ; the  only  word  of  truth  is  what  lay 
in  the  preamble,  for  the  4 devil  inciting  ’ me  only  would  ever 
have  made  me  the  owner  of  that  infernal  beast,  the  cause  of 
all  my  misfortunes.  I was  so  stupefied  from  my  beating  that 
I know  little  of  the  course  of  the  proceedings.  My  friends 
told  me  afterward  that  I had  a narrow  escape  from  transpor- 
tation ; but  for  the  greatest  influence  exerted  in  my  behalf,  I 
should  certainly  have  passed  the  autumn  in  the  agreeable 
recreation  of  pounding  oyster-shells  or  carding  wool ; and  it 
certainly  must  have  gone  hard  with  me,  for,  stupefied  as  I 
was,  I remember  the  sensation  in  court  when  the  alderman 
made  his  appearance  with  a patch  oven  his  eye.  The  affect- 
ing admonition  of  the  little  judge — who,  when  passing  sen- 
tence upon  me,  adverted  to  the  former  respectability  of  my 
life  and  the  rank  of  my  relatives — actually  made  the  galleries 
weep. 

44  Four  months  in  Newgate  and  a fine  to  the  king,  then  re- 
warded my  taste  for  horse  , exercise  ; and  it’s  no  wonder  if  I 
prefer  going  on  foot. 

“ As  to  Miss  Eversham,  the  following  short  note  from  the 
dean  concluded  my  hopes  in  that  quarter  : 

Deanery,  Wednesday  Morning. 

“ 4 Sir, — After  the  very  distressing  publicity  to  which  your 
late  conduct  has  exposed  you — the  so  open  avowal  of  politi- 
cal opinion,  at  variance  with  those  (I  will  say)  of  every  gen- 
tleman— and  the  recorded  sentence  of  a judge  on  the  verdict 
of  twelve  of  your  countrymen — I should  hope  that  you  will 
not  feel  my  present  admonition  necessary  to  inform  you  that 
your  visits  to  my  house  shall  cease. 

44  4 The  presents  you  made  my  daughter,  when  under  our 
unfortunate  ignorance  of  your  real  character,  have  been  ad- 
dressed to  your  hotel,  and  I am  your  most  obedient,  humble 
servant, 

44  4 Oliver  Eversham.’ 

44  Here  ended  my  second  affair  par  amours ; and  I freely 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


33* 

confess  to  you  that  if  I can  only  obtain  a wife  in  a sea 
voyage,  or  a steeple-chase,  I am  likely  to  fulfil  one  great 
condition  in  modern  advertising — ‘ as  having  no  incum- 
brance, nor  any  objection  to  travel.’  ” 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  DUEL. 

Mr.  O’Leary  had  scarcely  concluded  the  narrative  of  his 
second  adventure,  when  the  gray  light  of  the  breaking  day 
wals  seen  faintly  struggling  through  the  half-closed  curtains, 
and  apprising  us  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

“ I think  we  shall  just  have  time  for  one  finishing  flask  of 
chambertin,”  said  O’Leary,  as  he  emptied  the  bottle  into 
his  glass. 

“ I forbid  the  banns  for  one,”  cried  Trevanion.  “ We  have 
all  had  wine  enough,  considering  what  we  have  before  us  this 
morning ; and  besides  you  are  not  aware  it  is  now  past  four 
‘o'clock.  So,  gargon — gargon,  there — how  soundly  the  poor 
fellow  sleeps — let  us  have  some  coffee,  and  then  inquire  if  a 
carriage  is  in  waiting  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Vivienne.” 

The  coffee  made  its  appearance,  very  much,  as  it  seemed, 
to  Mr.  O’Leary’s  chagrin;  who,  however,  solaced  himself  by 
sundry  petits  verres , to  correct  the  coldness  of  the  wine  he 
had  drunk,  and  at  length  recovered  his  good-humor. 

“ Do  you  know  now,”  said  he,  after  a short  pause,  in  which 
we  had  all  kept  silence,  “ I think  what  we  are  about  to  do  is 
the  very  ugliest  way  of  finishing  a pleasant  evening.  For  my 
own  part  I like  the  wind-up  we  used  to  have  in  ‘ Old  Trinity  ’ 
formerly ; when  after  wringing  off  half  a dozen  knockers, 
breaking  the  lamps  at  the  post-office,  and  getting  out  the  fire- 
engines  of  Werburgh’s  parish,  we  beat  a few  watchmen  and 
went  peaceably  to  bed.” 

“ Well,  not  being  an  Irishman,”  said  Trevanion,  “ I’m 
half  disposed  to  think  that  even  our  present  purpose  is  nearly 
as  favorable  to  life  and  limb  ; but  here  comes  my  servant. 
Well,  John,  is  all  arranged,  and  the  carriage  ready  ? ” 

Having  ascertained  that  the  carriage  was  in  waiting,  and 
that  the  small  box — brass-bound  and  Bramah-locked — re- 
posed within,  we  paid  our  bill  and  departed.  A cold,  raw, 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


33- 

misty-looking  morning,  with  masses  of  dark  lowering  clouds 
overhead,  and  channels  of  dark  and  murky  water  beneath, 
were  the  pleasant  prospects  which  met  us  as  we  issued  forth 
from  the  cafe.  The  lamps,  which  hung  suspended  midway 
across  the  street  (we  speak  of  some  years  since),  creaked 
with  a low  and  plaintive  sound,  as  they  swung  backward  and 
forward  in  the  wind.  Not  a footstep  was  heard  in  the  street, 
nothing  but  the  heavy  patter  of  the  rain  as  it  fell  ceaselessly 
upon  the  broad  pavement.  It  was,  indeed,  a most  depress- 
ing and  dispiriting  accompaniment  to  our  intended  excursion; 
and  even  O’Leary,  who  seemed  to  have  but  slight  sympathy 
with  external  influences,  felt  it,  for  he  spoke  but  little,  and 
was  scarcely  ten  minutes  in  the  carriage  till  he  was  sound 
asleep.  This  was,  I confess,  a great  relief  to  me  ; for,  how- 
ever impressed  I was,  and  to  this  hour  am,  with  the  many 
sterling  qualities  of  my  poor  friend,  yet,  I acknowledge  that 
this  was  not  precisely  the  time  I should  have  cared  for  their 
exercise,  and  would  have  much  preferred  the  companionship 
of  a different  order  of  person,  even  though  less  long  ac- 
quainted with  him.  Trevanion  was,  of  all  others,  the  most 
suitable  for  this  purpose  ; and  I felt  no  embarrassment  in 
opening  my  mind  freely  to  him  upon  subjects  which,  but 
twenty-four  hours  previous,  I could  not  have  imparted  to  a 
brother. 

There  is  no  such  unlocker  of  the  secrets  of  the  heart  as  ; 
the  possibly  near  approach  of  death.  Indeed,  I question  if  , 
a great  deal  of  the  bitterness  the  thought  of  it  inspires  does 
not  depend  upon  that  very  circumstance.  The  reflection  that 
the  long-treasured  mystery  of  our  lives  (and  who  is  there  \ 
without  some  such  ?)  is  about  to  become  known,  and  the 
secret  of  our  inmost  heart  laid,  bare,  is  in  itself  depressing,  'jj 
Not  one  kind  word,  nor  one  remembrancing  adieu,  to  those  J 
we  are  to  leave  forever,  can  be  spoken  or  written,  without 
calling  up  its  own  story  of  half-forgotten  griefs,  or,  still  worse, 
at  such  a moment,  of  happiness  never  again  to  b$  partaken  of.  i 

u I cannot  explain  why,”  said  I to  Trevanion,  “ but  although 
it  has  unfortunately  been  pretty  often  my  lot  to  have  gone  out 
on  occasions  like  this,  both  as  principal  and  friend,  yet  never  j 
before  did  I feel  so  completely  depressed  and  low-spirited — ^ 
and  never,  in  fact,  did  so  many  thoughts  of  regret  arise  be- 1 
fore  me  for  much  of  the  past,  and  sorrow  for  the  chance  of  j 
^abandoning  the  future ” 

“ 1 £an  understand/’  said  Trevanion,  interrupting — “ I have 


HARR  Y LOR  REAVER. 


m 


heard  of  your  prospect  in  the  Callonby  family,  and  certainly 
with  such  hopes,  I can  well  conceive  how  little  one  would  be 
disposed  to  brook  the  slightest  incident  which  could  interfere 
with  their  accomplishment ; but,  now  that  your  cousin  Guy’s 
pretensions  in  that  quarter  are  at  an  end,  I suppose,  from  all 
1 have  heard,  that  there  can  be  no  great  obstacle  to  yours.’' 

“ Guy’s  pretensions  at  an  end  ! For  Heaven’s  sake,  tell 
me  all  you  know  of  this  affair — for  up  to  this  moment  I am 
in  utter  ignorance  of  everything  regarding  his  position  among 
the  Callonby  family.” 

“ Unfortunately,”  replied  Trevanion,  “ I know  but  little, 
but  still  that  little  is  authentic — Guy  himself  having  imparted 
the  secret  to  a very  intimate  friend  of  mine.  It  appears, 
then,  that  your  cousin,  having  heard  that  the  Callonbys  had 
been  very  civil  to  you  in  Ireland,  and  made  all  manner  of 
advances  to  you — had  done  so  under  the  impression  that 
you  were  the  other  nephew  of  Sir  Guy,  and  consequently  the 
heir  of  a large  fortune — that  is,  Guy  himself — and  that  they 
had  never  discovered  the  mistake  during  the  time  they 
resided  in  Ireland,  when  they  not  only  permited,  but  even 
encouraged  the  closest  intimacy  between  you  and  Lady  Jane. 
Is  it  so  far  true  ? ” 

“ I have  long  suspected  it.  Indeed,  in  no  other  way  can 
I account  for  the  reception  I met  with  from  the  Callonbys. 
But  is  it  possible  that  Lady  Jane  could  have  lent  herself  to 
anything  so  unworthy ” 

“ Pray,  hear  me  out,”  said  Trevanion,  who  was  evidently 
struck  by  the  despondency  of  my  voice  and  manner.  “ Guy, 
having  heard  of  their  mistake,  and  auguring  well  to  himself 
from  this  evidence  of  their  disposition,  no  sooner  heard  of 
their  arrival  in  Paris,  than  he  came  over  here  and  got  intro- 
duced to  them.  From  that  time  he  scarcely  ever  left  their 
house,  except  to  accompany  them  into  society,  or  to  the 
theatres.  It  is  said  that  with  Lady  Jane  he  made  no  progress. 
Her  manner,  at  the  beginning  cold  and  formal,  became  daily 
more  so  ; until,  at  last,  he  was  half  disposed  to  abandon 
the  pursuit — in  which,  by  the  by,  he  has  since  confessed, 
moneyed  views  entered  more  than  any  affection  for  the  lady 
— when  the  thought  struck  him  to  benefit  by  what  he  supposed 
at  first  to  be  the  great  bar  to  his  success.  He  suddenly  pre- 
tended to  be  only  desirous  of  an  intimacy  with  Lady  Jane, 
from  having  heard  so  much  of  her  from  you — affected  to  be 
greatly  in  your  confidence — and,  in  fact,  assumed  the  character 


334 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


of  a friend  cognizant  of  all  your  feelings  and  hopes,  and 
ardently  desiring,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  to  advance 
your  views ” 

“ And  was  it  thus  he  succeeded?  ” ' I broke  in. 

“ ’Twas  thus  he  endeavored  to  succeed,”  said  Trevanion. 

“ Ah,  with  what  success  I but  too  well  know,”  said  I. 
*•  My  uncle  himself  showed  me  a letter  from  Guy,  in  which 
he  absolutely  speaks  of  the  affair  as  settled,  and  talks  of 
Lady  Jane  as  about  to  be  his  wife.” 

“ That  may  be  all  quite  true  ; but  a little  consideration  of 
Guy’s  tactics  will  show  what  he  intended  ; for  I find  that  he 
induced  your  uncle,  by  some  representations  of  his,  to  make 
the  most  handsome  proposals,  with  regard  to  the  marriage, 
to  the  Callonbys ; and  that,  to  make  the  story  short,  nothing 
but  the  decided  refusal  of  Lady  J ane,  who  at  length  saw  through 
his  entire  game,  prevented  the  match.” 

“ And  then  she  did  refuse  him  ? ” said  I,  with  ill-repressed 
exultation. 

“ Of  that  there  can  be  no  doubt ; for  independently  of  all 
the  gossip  and  quizzing  upon  the  subject  to  which  Guy  was 
exposed  in  the  coteries,  he  made  little  secret  of  it  himself — 
openly  avowing  that  he  did  not  consider  a repulse  a defeat, 
and  that  he  was  resolved  to  sustain  the  siege  as  vigorously  as 
ever.” 

However  interested  I felt  in  all  Trevanion  was  telling  me, 
I could  not  help  falling  into  a train  of  thinking  on  my  first 
acquaintance  with  the  Callonbys  ; there  are  perhaps  but  few 
things  more  humiliating  than  the  knowledge  that  any  atten- 
tion or  consideration  we  have  met  with  has  been  paid  us  in 
mistake  for  another ; and  in  the  very  proportion  that  they 
were  prized  before  are  they  detested  when  the  truth  is  known 
to  us. 

To  all  the  depressing  influences  these  thoughts  suggested, 
came  the  healing  balm  that  Lady  Jane  was  true  to  me — that 
she,  at  least,  however  others  might  be  biased  by  worldly  con- 
siderations— that  she  cared  for  me — for  myself  alone.  My 
reader  (alas  ! for  my  character  for  judgment)  knows  upon 
how  little  I founded  the  conviction  ; but  T have  often,  in 
these  Confessions,  avowed  my  failing,  par  excellence , to  be  a 
great  taste  for  self-deception  ; and  here  was  a capital  occasion 
for  its  indulgence. 

“We  shall  have  abundant  time  to  discuss  this  later  on,” 
said  Trevanion,  laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  to  rouse 


HARR Y LORREQUER.  335 

my  wandering  attention.  “ for  now  I perceive  we  have  only 
eight  minutes  to  spare.” 

As  he  spoke  a dragoon  officer,  in  an  undress,  rode  up  to 
the  window  of  the  carriage,  and  looking  steadily  at  our  party 
for  a few  seconds,  asked  if  we  were  “ Messieurs  les  Anglais ; ” 
and,  almost  without  waiting  for  a reply,  added,  “You  had 
better  not  go  any  further  in  your  carriage,  for  the  next  turn  of 
the  road  will  bring  you  in  sight  of  the  village.” 

We  accordingly  stopped  the  driver,  and  having  with  some 
difficulty  aroused  O’Leary,  got  out  upon  the  road.  The 
militaire  here  gave  his  horse  to  a groom  and  proceeded  to 
guide  us  through  a corn-field  by  a narrow  path,  with  whose 
windings  and  crossings  he  appeared  quite  conversant.  We 
at  length  reached  the  brow  of  a little  hill,  from  which  an 
extended  view  of  the  country  lay  before  us,  showing  the 
Seine  winding  its  tranquil  course  between  the  richly-tilled 
fields,  dotted  with  many  a pretty  cottage.  Turning  abruptly 
from  this  point,  our  guide  led  us  by  a narrow  and  steep  path 
into  a little  glen,  planted  with  poplars  and  willows.  A small 
stream  ran  through  this,  and  by  the  noise  we  soon  detected 
that  a mill  was  not  far  distant,  which  another  turning  brought 
us  at  once  in  front  of. 

And  here  I cannot  help  dwelling  on  the  tableau  which 
met  our  view.  In  the  porch  of  the  little  rural  mill  sat  two 
gentlemen,  one  of  whom  I immediately  recognized  as  the 
person  who  had  waited  upon  me,  and  the  other  I rightly  con- 
jectured to  be  my  adversary.  Before  them  stood  a small 
table,  covered  with  a spotless  napkin,  upon  which  a break- 
fast equipage  was  spread — a most  inviting  melon  and  a long 
slender-necked  bottle,  reposing  in  a little  ice-pail,  forming 
part  of  the  materiel . My  opponent  was  coolly  enjoying 
his  cigar — a half-finished  cup  of  coffee  lay  beside  him — his 
friend  was  occupied  in  examining  the  caps  of  the  duelling 
pistols,  which  were  placed  upon  a chair.  No  sooner  had  we 
turned  the  angle  which  brought  us  in  view  than  they  both 
rose,  and  taking  off  thedr  hats  with  much  courtesy,  bade  us 
good-morning. 

“ May  I offer  you  a cup  of  coffee  ? ” said  Monsieur  Derigny 
to  me,  as  I came  up,  at  the  same  time  filling  it  out,  and 
pushing  over  a little  flask  of  Cognac  toward  me. 

A look  from  Trevanion  decided  my  acceptance  of  the 
proffered  civility,  and  I seated  myself  in  the  chair  beside  the 
baron.  Trevanion  meanwhile  had  engaged  my  adversary 


HARRY  IORREQUER . 


in  conversation  along  with  the  stranger  who  had  been  out 
guide,  leaving  O’Leary  alone  unoccupied,  which,  however,  he 
did  not  long  remain  ; for,  although  uninvited  by  the  others,  he 
seized  a knife  and  fork,  and  commenced  a vigorous  attack 
upon  a partridge  pie  near  him  ; and,  with  equal  absence  of 
ceremony,  uncorked  the  champagne  and  filled  out  a foaming 
goblet,  nearly  one-third  of  the  whole  bottle,  adding — 

44  I think,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  there’s  nothing  like  showing 
them  that  we  are  just  as  cool  and  unconcerned  as  them- 
selves.” 

If  I might  judge  from  the  looks  of  the  party,  a happier 
mode  of  convincing  them  of  our  “ free-and-easy  ” feelings 
could  not  possibly  have  been  discovered.  From  any  morti- 
fication this  proceeding  might  have  caused  me,  I was  speedily 
relieved  by  Trevanion  calling  O’Leary  to  one  side,  while  he 
explained  to  him  that  he  must  nominally  act  as  second  on 
the  ground,  as  Trevanion,  being  a resident  in  Paris,  might 
become  liable  to  a prosecution,  should  anything  serious  arise, 
while  O’Leary,  as  a mere  passer  through,  could  cross  the 
frontier  into  Germany,  and  avoid  all  trouble. 

O’Leary  at  once  acceded — perhaps  the  more  readily  be- 
cause he  expected  to  be  allowed  to  return  to  his  breakfast — 
but  in  this  he  soon  fodhd  himself  mistaken,  for  the  whole 
party  now  rose,  and  preceded  by  the  baron,  followed  the 
course  of  the  little  stream. 

After  about  five  minutes’  walking,  we  found  ourselves  at 
the  outlet  of  the  glen,  which  was  formed  by  a large  stone- 
quarry,  making  a species  of  amphitheatre,  with  lofty  walls  of 
rugged  granite,  rising  thirty  or  forty  feet  on  either  side  of 
us.  The  ground  was  smooth  and  level  as  a boarded  floor, 
and  certainly  to  amateurs  in  these  sort  of  matters,  presented 
a most  perfect  spot  for  a “ meeting.” 

The  stranger  who  had  just  joined  us  could  not  help  re- 
marking our  looks  of  satisfaction  at  the  choice  of  ground, 
and  observed  to  me : 

44  This  is  not  the  first  affair  that  this  little  spot  has  wit- 
nessed, and  the  moulinet  of  St.  Cloud  is,  I think,  the  very 
best  4 meet 9 about  Paris.” 

Trevanion,  who,  during  these  few  minutes,  had  been  en- 
gaged with  Derigny,  now  drew  me  aside. 

44  Well,  Lorrequer,  have  you  any  recollection  now  of  having 
seen  your  opponent  before  ? or  can  you  make  a guess  at  the 
source  of  all  this  ? ” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


337 


“ Never  till  this  instant/’ said  I,  “have  I beheld  him/’ 
as  I looked  toward  the  tall,  stoutly-built  figure  of  my  adver- 
sary, who  was  very  leisurely  detaching  a cordon  from  his 
tightly-fitting  frock,  doubtless  to  prevent  its  attracting  my 
aim. 

“ Well,  never  mind,  I shall  manage  everything  properly. 
What  can  you  do  with  the  small  sword,  for  they  have  rapiers 
at  the  mill  ? ” 

“ Nothing  whatever  ; I have  not  fenced  since  I was  a 
boy.” 

“ N’importe,  then  we’ll  fight  at  a barriere.  I know  they’re 
not  prepared  for  that  from  Englishmen,  so  just  step  on  one 
side  now,  and  leave  me  to  talk  it  over.” 

As  the  limited  nature  of  the  ground  did  not  permit  me  to 
retire  to  a distance,  I became  involuntarily  aware  of  a dia- 
logue, which  even  the  seriousness  of  the  moment  could 
scarcely  keep  me  from  laughing  at  outright. 

It  was  necessary,  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  any  possible 
legal  difficulty  in  the  result,  that  O’Leary  should  give  his 
assent  to  every  step  of  the  arrangement ; and  being  totally 
ignorant  of  French,  Trevanion  had  not  only  to  translate  for 
him,  but  also  to  render  in  reply  O’Leary’s  own  comments  or 
objections  to  the  propositions  of  the  others. 

“ Then  it  is  agreed  we  fight  at  a barriere  ? ” said  Captain 
Derigny. 

“ What’s  that,  Trevanion  ?*” 

“ We  have  agreed  to  place  them  at  a barriere replied 
Trevanion. 

“ That’s  strange,”  muttered  O’Leary  to  himself,  who,  know- 
ing that  the  word  meant  a “ turnpike,”  never  supposed  it  had 
any  other  signification. 

“ Vingt-quatre  pas,  n’est  pas  ? ” said  Derigny. 

“Too  far,”  interposed  Trevanion. 

“ What  does  he  say  now  ? ” asked  O’Leary. 

“ Twenty-four  paces  for  the  distance.” 

“ Twenty-four  of  my  teeth  he  means,”  said  O’Leary, 
snapping  his  fingers.  “ What  does  he  think  of  the  length  of 
Sackville  Street  ? Ask  him  that,  will  ye  ? ” 

“What  says  monsieur  ? ” said  the  Frenchman. 

“ He  thinks  the  distance  much  too  great.” 

“ He  may  be  mistaken,”  said  the  captain,  half  sneeringly. 
u My  friend  is  ‘de  la  premiere  force.’  ” 

“ That  must  be  something  impudent  from  your  looks, 


33S  HARR  Y L ORREQ UER . 

Mr.  Trevanion.  Isn’t  it  a thousand  pities  I can’t  speak 
French  ? ” 

“What  say  you,  then,  to  twelve  paces?  Fire  together, 
and  two  shots  each,  if  the  first  be  inconclusive,”  said 
Trevanion. 

“ And  if  necessary,”  added  the  Frenchman,  carelessly, 
“ conclude  with  these  ” — touching  the  swords  with  his  foot, 
as  he  spoke. 

“ The  choice  of  the  weapon  lies  with  us,  I opine,”  replied 
Trevanion.  “ We  have  already  named  pistols,  and  by  them 
we  shall  decide  this  matter.” 

It  was  at  length,  after  innumerable  objections,  agreed 
upon  that  we  should  be  placed  back  to  back,  and  at  a word 
given  each  walk  forward  to  a certain  distance  marked  out 
by  a stone,  where  we  were  to  halt,  and  at  the  signal  “ Une,” 
“ Deux,”  turn  round  and  fire. 

This,  which  is  essentially  a French  invention  in  duelling, 
was  perfectly  new  to  me,  but  by  no  means  so  to  -Trevanion, 
who  was  fully  aware  of  the  immense  consequence  of  not 
giving  even  a momentary  opportunity  for  aim  to  my 
antagonist;  and  in  this  mode  of  firing,  the  most  practiced 
and  deadly  shot  is  liable  to  err,  particularly  if  the  signal  be 
given  quickly. 

While  Trevanion  and  the  captain  were  measuring  out  the 
ground,  a little  circumstance  which  was  enacted  near  me  was 
certainly  not  over  calculated  to  strengthen  my  nerve.  The 
stranger  who  had  led  us  to  the  ground  had  begun  to  examine 
the  pistols,  and  finding  that  one  of  them  was  loaded,  turned 
toward  my  adversary,  saying,  “ D’Haulpenne,  you  have  for- 
gotten to  draw  the  charge.  Come,  let  us  see  what  vein  you 
are  in.”  At  the  same  time,  drawing  off  his  large  cavalry 
glove,  he  handed  the  pistol  to  his  friend. 

“ A double  Napoleon  you  don’t  hit  the  thumb.” 

“ Done,”  said  the  other,  adjusting  the  weapon  in  his  hand. 

The  action  was  scarcely  performed,  when  the  bettor  flung 
the  glove  into  the  air  with  all  his  force.  My  opponent  raised 
his  pistol,  waited  for  an  instant,  till  the  glove,  having  attained 
its  greatest  height,  turned  to  fall  again.  Then  click  went 
the  trigger — the  glove  turned  round  and  round  half  a dozen 
twines,  and  fell  about  twenty  yards  off,  and  the  thumb  was 
found  cut  clearly  off  at  the  juncture  with  the  hand. 

This,  which  did  not  occupy  half  as  long  as  I have  spent 
in  recounting  it,  was  certainly  a pleasant  introduction  to 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


339 


Standing  at  fifteen  yards  from  the  principal  actor,  and  I 
should  doubtless  have  felt  it  in  all  its  force  had  not  my 
attention  been  drawn  off  by  the  ludicrous  expression  of  grief  in 
O’Leary’s  countenance,  who  evidently  regarded  me  as  already 
defunct. 

“ Now,  Lorrequer,  we  are  ready,”  said  Trevanion,  coming 
forward ; and  then,  lowering  his  voice,  added,  “ All  is  in 
your  favor ; I have  won  the  ‘ word/  which  I shall  give  the 
moment  you  halt.  So  turn  and  fire  at  once  ; be  sure  not  to 
go  too  far  round  in  the  turn  ; that  is  the  invariable  error  in 
this  mode  of  firing,  only  no  hurry : be  calm.” 

“Now,  messieurs,”  said  Derigny,  as  he  approached  with 
his  friend  leaning  upon  his  arm,  and  placed  him  in  the  spot 
allotted  him.  Trevanion  then  took  my  arm,  and  placed  me 
back  to  back  to  my  antagonist.  As  I took  up  my  ground, 
it  so  chanced  that  my  adversary’s  spur  slightly  grazed  me, 
upon  which  he  immediately  turned  round,  and,  with  the  most 
engaging  smile,  begged  a “ thousand  pardons,”  and  hoped  I 
was  not  hurt. 

O’Leary,  who  saw  the  incident,  and  guessed  the  action 
aright,  called  out  ? 

“ Oh,  the  cold-blooded  villain  ; the  devil  a chance  for  you, 
Mr.  Lorrequer.” 

“ Messieurs,  your  pistols,”  said  Le  Capitaine  la  Garde, 
who,  as  he  handed  the  weapons,  and  repeated  once  more  the 
conditions  of  the  combat,  gave  the  word  to  march. 

I now  walked  slowly  forward  to  the  place  marked  out  by 
the  stone  ; but  it  seemed  that  I must  have  been  in  advance 
of  my  opponent,  for  I remember  some  seconds  elapsed  before 
Trevanion  coughed  slightly,  and  then,  with  a clear  full  voice, 
called  out  “ Une ,”  “ Deux.”  I had  scarcely  turned  myself 
half  round,  when  my  right  arm  was  suddenly  lifted  up,  as  if 
by  a galvanic  shock.®  My  pistol  jerked  upward,  and  exploded 
the  same  moment,  and  then  dropped  powerless  from  my 
hand,  which  I now  felt  was  covered  with  warm  blood  from  a 
wound  near  the  elbow.  From  the  acute  but  momentary  pang 
this  gave  me;  my  attention  was  soon  called  off ; for  scarcely 
had  my  arm  been  struck,  when  a loud  chattering  noise  to  my 
left  induced  me  to  turn,  and  then,  to  my  astonishment,  I saw 
my  friend  O’Leary  about  twelve  feet  from  the  ground,  hanging 
on  by  some  ash  twigs  that  grew  from  the  clefts  of  the  granite. 
Fragments  of  broken  rock  were  falling  around  him,  and  his 
own  position  momentarily  threatened  a downfall.  He  was 


MARRY  LORREQUER. 


34^ 

screaming  with  all  his  might ; but  what  he  said  was  entirely 
lost  in  the  shouts  of  laughter  of  Trevanion  and  the  Frenchman, 
who  could  scarcely  stand  with  the  immoderate  exuberance 
of  their  mirth. 

I had  not  time  to  run  to  his  aid,  which,  although  wounded, 
I should  have  done,  when  the  branch  he  clung  to  slowly 
yielded  with  his  weight,  and  the  round  plump  figure  of  my 
poor  friend  rolled  over  the  little  cleft  of  rock  and,  after  a 
few  faint  struggles,  came  tumbling  heavily  down,  and  at  last 
lay  peaceably  in  the  deep  heather  at  the  bottom,  his  cries 
the  whole  time  being  loud  enough  to  rise  even  above  the 
vociferous  laughter  of  the  others. 

I now  ran  forward,  as  did  Trevanion,  when  O’Leary 
turning  his  eyes  toward  me,  said  in  the  most  piteous 
manner  : 

“ Mr.  Lorrequer,  I forgive  you,  here  is  my  hand,  bad  luck 
to  their  French  way  of  fighting,  that’s  all ; it’s  only  good  for 
killing  one’s  friend.  I thought  I was  safe  up  there,  come 
what  might.” 

“ My  dear  O’Leary,”  said  I,  in  an  agony  which  prevented 
my  minding  the  laughing  faces  around  me,  “ surely  you  don’t 
mean  to  say  that  I have  wounded  you  ? ” 

“ No,  dear,  not  wounded,  only  killed  me  outright,  through 
the  brain  it  must  be,  from  the  torture  I’m  suffering.” 

The  shout  with  which  this  speech  was  received  sufficiently 
aroused  me  ; while  Trevanion,  with  a voice  nearly  choked 
with  laughter,  said  : 

“ Why,  Lorrequer,  did  you  not  see  that  your  pistol,  on  being 
struck,  threw  your  ball  high  up  on  the  quarry  ? Fortunately, 
however,  about  a foot  and  a half  above  Mr.  O’Leary’s 
head,  whose  most  serious  wounds  are  his  scratched  hands 
and  bruised  bones  from  his  tumble.” 

This  explanation,  which  was  perfectlyssatisfactory  to  me, 
was  by  no  means  so  consoling  to  poor  O’Leary,  who  lay  quite 
unconscious  to  all  around,  moaning  in  the  most  melancholy 
manner.  Some  of  the  blood  which  continued  to  flow  fast 
from  my*  wound  having  dropped  upon  his  face,  aroused  him 
a little — but  only  to  increase  his  lamentation  for  his  own 
destiny,  which  he  believed  was  fast  accomplishing. 

“ Through  the  skull,  clean  through  the  skull,  and  preserving 
my  senses  to  the  last ! Mr.  Lorrequer,  stoop  down — it  is  a 
dying  man  asks  you — don’t  refuse  me  a last  request.  There’s 
neither  luck  nor  grace,  honor  nor  glory,  in  such  a way  of 


ttAkR  Y L6RREQUER. 


341 


righting,  so  just  promise  me  you’ll  shoot  that  grinning  baboon 
there,  when  he’s  going  off  the  ground,  since  it’s  the  fashion  to 
fire  at  a man  with  his  back  to  you.  Bring  him  down,  and 
I’ll  die  easy.  ” 

And  with  these  words  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  straightened 
out  his  legs — stretched  his  arm  at  either  side,  and  arranged 
himself  as  much  corpse  fashion  as  the  circumstances  of  the 
ground  would  permit — while  I now  freely  participated  in 
the  mirth  of  the  others,  which,  loud  and  boisterous  as  it  was, 
never  reached  the  ears  of  O’Leary. 

My  arm  had  now  become  so  painful,  that  I was  obliged  to 
ask  Trevanion  to  assist  me  in  getting  off  my  coat.  The 
surprise  of  the  Frenchmen  on  learning  that  I was  wounded 
was  very  considerable,  O’Leary’s  catastrophe  having  exclu- 
sively engaged  all  attention.  My  arm  was  now  examined, 
when  it  was  discovered  that  the  ball  had  passed  through  from 
one  side  to  the  other,  without  apparently  touching  the  bone  ; 
the  bullet  and  the  portion  of  my  coat  carried  in  by  it  both 
lay  in  my  sleeve.  The  only  serious  consequence  to  be  ap- 
prehended was  the  wound  of  the  blood-vessel,  which  con- 
tinued to  pour  forth  blood  unceasingly,  and  I was  just  sur- 
geon enough  to  guess  that  an  artery  had  been  cut. 

Trevanion  bound  his  handkerchief  tightly  across  the  wound, 
and  assisted  me  to  the  high-road,  which,  so  sudden  was  the 
loss  of  blood,  I reached  with  difficulty.  During  all  these 
proceedings  nothing  could  be  possibly  more  kind  and  con- 
siderate than  the  conduct  of  our  opponents.  All  the  farouche 
and  swaggering  air  which  they  had  deemed  de  rigueitrheiore, 
at  once  fled,  and  in  its  place  we  found  the  most  gentleman- 
like attention  and  true  politeness. 

As  soon  as  I was  enabled  to  speak  upon  the  matter,  I 
begged  Trevanion  to  look  to  poor  O’Leary,  who  still  lay 
upon  the  ground  in  a state  of  perfect  unconsciousness.  Cap- 
tain Derigny,  on  hearing  my  wish,  at  once  returned  to  the 
quarry,  and,  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  persuaded' my  friend 
to  rise  and  endeavor  to  walk,  which  at  last  he  did  attempt, 
calling  him  to  bear  witness  that  it  perhaps  was  the  only  case 
on  record,  where  a man  with  a bullet  in  his  brain  had  made 
such  an  exertion. 

With  a view  to  my  comfort  and  quiet,  they  put  him  into 
the  cab  of  Le  Baron  ; and,  having  undertaken  to  send  Du- 
puytrien  to  me  immediately  on  my  reaching  Paris,  took  their 
leave,  and  Trevanion  and  I set  out  homeward. 


342 


HA  RR  V L ORREQ  UER. 


Not  all  my  exhaustion  and  debility,  nor  even  the  acute 
pain  I was  suffering,  could  prevent  my  laughing  at  O' Leary’s 
adventure  ; and  it  required  all  Trevanion’s  prudence  to  pre- 
vent my  indulging  too  far  in  my  recollection  of  it. 

When  I reached  Meurice’s,  I found  Dupuytrien  in  wait- 
ing, who  immediately  pronounced  the  main  artery  of  the  limb 
as  wounded  ; and  almost  as  instantaneously  proceeded  to 
pass  a ligature  round  it.  This  painful  business  being  con- 
cluded, I was  placed  upon  a sofa,  and  being  plentifully  sup- 
plied with  lemonade,  and  enjoined  to  keep  quiet,  left  to  my  ’ 
own  meditations,  such  as  they  were,  till  evening,  Trevanion 
having  taken  upon  him  to  apologize  for  our  absence  at  Mrs. 
Bingham’s  dejeuner , and  O’Leary  being  fast  asleep  in  his 
own  apartments. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

EARLY  RECOLLECTIONS — A FIRST  LOVE. 

I know  of  no  sensations  so  very  nearly  alike  as  those  felt 
on  awaking  after  very  sudden  and  profuse  loss  of  blood,  and 
those  resulting  from  a large  dose  of  opium.  The  dizziness, 
the  confusion,  and  the  abstraction  at  first  gradually  yielding, 
as  the  senses  become  clearer,  to  a vague  and  indistinct  con- 
sciousness ; then  the  strange  mistiness,  in  which  fact  and 
fiction  are  wrapped  up — the  confounding  of  persons,  and 
places,  and  times,  not  so  as  to  embarrass  and  annoy — for  the 
very  debility  you  feel  subdues  all  irritation — but  rather  to 
present  a panoramic  picture  of  odd  and  incongruous  events 
more  pleasing  than  otherwise. 

Of  the  circumstances  by  which  I was  thus  brought  to  a 
sick  couch,  I had  not  even  the  most  vague  recollection — the 
faces  and  the  dress  of  all  those  I had  lately  seen  were  vividly 
before  me  ; but  how,  and  for  what  purpose,  I knew  not. 
Something  in  their  kindness  and  attention  had  left  an  agree- 
able impression  upon  my  mind,  and  without  being  able, 
or  even  attempting,  to  trace  it,  I felt  happy  in  the  thought. 
While  thus  the  “ hour  before  ” was  dim  and  indistinct,  the 
events  of  years  past  were  vividly  and  brightly  pictured  before 
me,  and  strange,  too,  the  more  remote  the  period,  the  more  did 
it  seem  palpable  and  present  to  my  imagination.  For  so  it 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


343 


is,  there  is  in  memory  a species  of  mental  long-sightedness, 
which,  though  blind  to  the  object  close  beside  you,  can  reach 
the  blue  mountains  and  the  starry  skies,  which  lie  full  many 
a league  away.  Is  this  a malady  ? or  is  it  rather  a provi- 
dential gift  to  alleviate  the  tedious  hours  of  the  sick-bed, 
and  cheer  the  lonely  sufferer,  whose  thoughts  are  his  only 
realm  ? 

My  school-boy  days,  in  all  their  holiday  excitement ; the 
bank  where  I had  culled  the  earliest  cowslips  of  the  year  ; 
the  clear  but  rapid  stream,  where  days  long  I have  watched 
the  speckled  trout,  as  they  swam  peacefully  beneath,  or 
shook  their  bright  fins  in  the  gay  sunshine  ; the  gorgeous 
dragon-fly  that  played  above  the  water,  and  dipped  his  bright 
wings  in  its  ripple — they  were  all  before  me.  And  then 
came  the  thought  of  school  itself,  with  its  little  world  of 
boyish  cares  and  emulations  ; the  early  imbibed  passion  for 
success  ; the  ardent  longing  for  superiority  ; the  high  and 
swelling  feeling  of  the  heart,  as  home  drew  near,  to  think 
that  I had  gained  the  wished-for  prize — the  object  of  many 
an  hours  toil — the  thought  of  many  a long  night’s  dream  ; 
my  father’s  smile  ; my  mother’s  kiss ! Oh  ! what  a very 
world  of  tender  memory  that  one  thought  suggests  ; for  what 
are  all  our  later  successes  in  life — how  bright  soever  our  for- 
tune be — compared  with  the  early  triumphs  of  our  infancy  ? 
Where,  among  the  jealous  rivalry  of  some,  the  cold  and 
half-wrung  praise  of  others,  the  selfish  and  unsympathizing 
regard  of  all,  shall  we  find  anything  to  repay  us  for  the  swell- 
ing ecstasy  of  our  young  hearts,  as  those  who  have  cradled 
and  loved  us  grow  proud  in  our  successes  ? For  myself,  a 
life  that  has  failed  in  every  prestige  of  those  that  prophesied 
favorably — years  that  have  followed  on  each  other  only  to 
blight  the  promise  that  kind  and  well-wishing  friends  fore- 
told— leave  but  little  to  dwell  upon,  that  can  be  reckoned  to 
success.  And  yet,  some  moments  I have  had,  which  half 
seemed  to  realize  my  early  dream  of  ambition,  and  rouse 
my  spirit  within  me  ; but  what  were  they  all  compared  to  my 
boyish  glories  ? what  the  passing  excitement  one’s  own  heart 
inspires  in  the  lonely  and  selfish  solitude,  when  compared 
with  that  little  world  of  sympathy  and  love  our  early  home 
teemed  with,  as  proud  in  some  trifling  distinction,  we  fell  into 
a mother’s  arms,  and  heard  our  father’s  “ God  bless  you, 
boy  ” ? No,  no  ; the  world  has  no  requital  for  this.  It  is 
like  the  bright  day-spring,  which,  as  its  glories  gild  the 


344 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


east,  display  before  us  a whole  world  of  beauty  and  promise 
— blighted  hopes  have  not  withered,  false  friendships  have 
not  scathed,  cold,  selfish  interest  has  not  yet  hardened  our 
hearts,  or  dried  up  our  affections,  and  we  are  indeed  happy ; 1 
but  equally  like  the  burst  of  morning  is  it  fleeting  and  short- 
lived ; and  equally  so,  too,  does  it  pass  away,  never,  never 
to  return. 

From  thoughts  like  these  my  mind  wandered  on  to  more  | 
advanced  years,  when,  emergingirom  my  boyhood,  I half 
believed  myself  a man,  and  was  fully  convinced  I was  in 
love. 

Perhaps,  after  all,  for  the  time  it  lasted — ten  days,  I think  j 
- — it  was  the  most  sincere  passion  I ever  felt.  I had  been 
spending  some  weeks  at  air  small  watering-pktce  in  Wales, 
with  some  relatives  of  my  .mother.  There  were,  as  might 
be  supposed,  but  few  “ distractions  ” in  such  a place,  save 
the  scenery,  and  an  occasional  day’s  fishing  in  the  little  river 
of  Dolgelly,  which  ran  near.  In  all  these  little  rambles 
which  the  younger  portion  of  the  family  made  together,  fre-  j 
quent  mention  was  ever  being  made  of  a visit  from  a very  ! 
clear  cousin,  and  to  which  all  looked  forward  with  the 
greatest  eagerness — the  elder  ones  of  the  party  with  a certain 
air  of  quiet  pleasure,  as  though  they  knew  more  than  they  J 
said,  and  the  younger  with  all  the  childish  exuberance  of 
youthful  delight.  Clara  Mourtray  seemed  to  be,  from  all  I 
was  hourly  hearing,  the  very  paragon  and  pattern  of  every-  j 
thing.  If  any  one  was  praised  for  beauty,  Clara  was  im- 
mediately pronounced  much  prettier — did  any  one  sing,  ,i 
Clara’s  voice  and  taste  were  far  superior.  In  our  homeward 
walk,  should  the  shadows  of  the  dark  hill  fall  with  a pictur-  1 
esque  effect  upon  the  blue  lake,  some  one  was  sure  to  say  : i 
“ Oh  ! how  Clara  would  like  to  sketch  that.”  In  short,  there  j 
was  no  charm  or  accomplishment  ever  the  gift  of  woman 
that  Clara  did  not  possess  ; or,  what  amounted  pretty  much 
to  the  same  thing,  that  my  relatives  did  not  implicitly  give  f 
her  credit  for.  The  constantly  recurring  praises  of  the  same  | 
person  affect  us  always  differently  as  we  go  on  in  life.  In  [ 
youth,  the  prevailing  sentiment  is  an  ardent  desire  to  see  the  | 
prodigy  of  whom  we  have  heard  so  much — in  after  years,  j 
heartily  to  detest  what  hourly  hurts  our  self-love  by  compari-  J 
sons.  We  would  take  any  steps  to  avoid  meeting  what  we  < 
have  inwardly  decreed  to  be  a “ bore.”  The  former  was  my  ^ 
course,  and  though  my  curiosity  was  certainly  very  great,  I t 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


34$ 


had  made  up  my  mind  to  as  great  a disappointment,  and  half 
wished  for  the  long-looked-for  arrival  as  a means  of  criticis- 
ing what  they  could  see  no  fault  in. 

The  wished-for  evening  at  length  came,  and  we  all  set  out 
upon  a walk  to  meet  the  carriage  which  was  to  bring  the  bien 
ciimb  Clara  among  us.  We  had  not  walked  above  a mile 
when  the  eager  eye  of  the  foremost  detected  a cloud  of  dust 
upon  the  road  at  some  distance  ; and,  after  a few  minutes 
more,  four  posters  were  seen  coming  along  at  a tremendous 
rate.  The  next  moment  she  was  making  the  tour  of  about  a 
dozen  uncles,  aunts,  cousins,  and  cousines,  none  of  whom,  it 
appeared  to  me,  felt  any  peculiar  desire  to  surrender  the 
hearty  embrace  to  the  next  of  kin  in  succession.  At  last 
she  came  to  me,  when,  perhaps,  in  the  confusion  of  the  mo- 
ment, not  exactly  remembering  whether  or  not  she  had  seen 
me  before,  she  stood  for  a moment  silent — a deep  blush 
mantling  her  lovely  cheek — masses  of  waving  brown  hair  dis- 
ordered and  floating  upon  her  shoulders — her  large  and  liquid 
blue  eyes  beaming  upon  me.  One  look  was  enough.  I was 
deeply — irretrievably  in  love. 

“ Our  cousin  Harry — Harry  Lorrequer— wild  Harry,  as  we 
used  to  call  him,  Clara,”  said  one  of  the  girls,  introducing 

me. 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  said  something  with  a smile. 
What,  I know  not — nor  can  I tell  how  I replied  ; but  some- 
thing absurd  it  must  have  been,  for  they  all  laughed  heartily, 
and  the  worthy  papa  himself  tapped  my  shoulder  jestingly, 
adding  : 

“ Never  mind,  Harry — you  will  do  better  one  day,  or  I am 
much  mistaken  in  you.” 

Whether  I was  conscious  that  I had  behaved  foolishly  or 
not,  I cannot  well  say  ; but  the  whole  of  that  night  I thought 
over  plans  innumerable  how  I should  succeed  in  putting  my- 
self forward  before  “ Cousin  Clara,”  and  vindicating  myself 
against  any  imputation  of  school-boy  mannerism  that  myflrst 
appearance  might  have  caused. 

The  next  day  we  remained  at  home.  Clara  was  too  much 
fatigued  to  walk  out,  and  none  of  us  would  leave  her.  What 
a day  of  happiness  that  was  ! I knew  something  of  music, 
and  could  sing  a second.  Clara  was  delighted  at  this,  for 
the  others  fiad  not  cultivated  singing  much.  We  therefore 
spent  the  whole  morning  in  this  way.  Then  she  produced 
her  sketch-book,  and  I brought  out  mine,  and  we  had  a 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


346 

mutual  interchange  of  prisoners.  What  cutting  out  of  leaves 
and  detaching  of  rice-paper  landscapes  ! Then  she  came 
out  upon  the  lawn  to  see  my  pony  leap,  and  promised  to  ride 
him  the  following  day.  She  patted  the  greyhounds,  and  said 
Gypsy,  which  was  mine,  was  the  prettiest.  In  a word,  before 
night  fell  Clara  had  won  my  heart  in  its  every  fibre,  and  I 
went  to  my  room  the  very  happiest  of  mortals. 

I need  not  chronicle  my  next  three  days — to  me  the  most 
glorious  “ trois  jours  ” of  my  life.  Clara  had  evidently 
singled  me  out  and  preferred  me  to  all  the  rest.  It  was  be- 
side me  she  rode  and  upon  my  arm  she  leaned  in  walking — • 
and,  to  comble  me  with  delight  unutterable,  I overheard  her 
say  to  my  uncle,  “ Oh,  I dote  upon  poor  Harry  ! And  it  is 
60  pleasant,  for  I’m  sure  Mortimer  will  be  so  jealous.” 

“ And  who  is  Mortimer  ? ” thought  I ; “ he  is  a new  char- 
acter in  the  piece,  of  whom  we  have  seen  nothing.” 

I was  not  long  in  doubt  upon  this  head,  for  that  very  day, 
at  dinner,  the  identical  Mortimer  presented  himself.  He 
was  a fine,  dashing-looking,  soldier-like  fellow,  of  about 
thirty-five,  with  a heavy  mustache  and  a bronzed  cheek — 
rather  grave  in  his  manner,  but  still  perfectly  good-natured, 
and  when  he  smiled  showing  a most  handsome  set  of  regular 
teeth.  Clara  seemed  less  pleased  (I  thought)  at  his  coming 
than  the  others,  and  took  pleasure  in  tormenting  him  by  a 
thousand  pettish  and  frivolous  ways,  which  I was  sorry  for, 
as  I thought  he  did  not  like  it  ; and  used  to  look  half  abid- 
ingly at  her  from  time  to  time,  but  without  any  effect,  for  she 
just  went  on  as  before,  and  generally  ended  by  taking  my 
arm  and  saying,  “ Come  away,  Harry  ; you  always  are  kind 
and  never  look  sulky.  lean  agree  with  you.”  These  were 
delightful  words  for  me  to  listen  to,  but  I could  not  hear 
them  without  feeling  for  him,  who  evidently  was  pained  by 
Clara’s  avowed  preference  for  me  ; and  whose  years — for  I 
thought  thirty-five  at  that  time  a little  verging  upon  the 
patriarchal — entitled  him  to  more  respect. 

“ Well,”  thought  I,  one  evening,  as  this  game  had  been 
carried  rather  further  than  usual,  “ I hope  she  is  content  now, ' 
for  certainly  Mortimer  is  jealous  ; ” and  the  result  proved  it, 
for  the  whole  of  the  following  day  he  absented  himself,  and 
never  came  back  till  late  in  the  evening.  He  had  been,  I 
found,  from  a chance  observation  I overheard,  at  the  bishop’s 
palace,  and  the  bishop  himself,  I learned,  was  to  breakfast 
with  us  in  the  morning. 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 


347 

“ Harry,  I have  a commission  for  you,”  said  Clara.  “ You 
must  get  up  very  early  to-morrow,  and  climb  the  Cader  moun- 
tain, and  bring  me  a grand  bouquet  of  the  blue  and  purple 
heath  that  I liked  so  much  the  last  time  I was  there.  Mind, 
very  early,  for  I intend  to  surprise  the  bishop  to-morrow  with 
my  taste  in  a nosegay.” 

The  sun  had  scarcely  risen  as  I sprang  from  my  bed,  and 
started  upon  my  errand.  Oh!  the  glorious  beauty  of  that 
morning’s  walk.  As  I climbed  the  mountain,  the  deep  mists 
lay  upon  all  around,  and  except  the  path  I was  treading, 
nothing  was  visible  ; but  before  I reached  the  top,  the  heavy 
masses  of  vapor  were  yielding  to  the  influence  of  the  sun  ; 
and  as  they  rolled  from  the  valleys  up  the  mountain-sides, 
were  every  instant  opening  new  glens  and  ravines  beneath 
me — bright  in  all  their  verdure,  and  speckled  with  sheep, 
whose  tinkling  bells  reached  me  even  where  I stood. 

I counted  about  twenty  lakes,  at  different  levels,  below  me  ; 
some  brilliant,  and  shining  like  polished  mirrors ; others  not 
less  beautiful,  dark  and  solemn  with  some  mighty  mountain 
shadow.  As  I looked  landward,  the  mountains  reared  their 
huge  crests,  one  above  the  other,  to  the  furthest  any  eye 
could  reach.  Toward  the  opposite  side,  the  calm  and  tran- 
quil sea  lay  beneath  me,  bathed  in  the  yellow  gold  of  a rising 
sun  ; a few  ships  were  peacefully  lying  at  anchor  in  the  bay  ; 
and  the  only  thing  in  motion  was  a row-boat,  the  heavy 
monotonous  stroke  of  whose  oars  rose  in  the  stillness  of  the 
morning  air.  Not  a single  habitation  of  man  could  I descry, 
nor  any  vestige  of  a human  being,  except  that  mass  of  some- 
thing upon  the  rock  far  down  beneath  be  one,  and  I think  it 
is,  for  I see  the  sheep-dog  ever  returning  again  and  again  to 
the  same  spot. 

My  bouquet  was  gathered  ; the  gentian  of  the  Alps,  which 
is  found  here,  also  contributing  its  evidence  to  show  where  I 
had  been  to  seek  it,  and  I turned  home. 

The  family  were  at  breakfast  as  I entered ; at  least  so  the 
servants  said,  for  I only  remembered  then  that  the  bishop  was 
our  guest,  and  that  I could  not  present  myself  without  some 
slight  attention  to  my  dress.  I hastened  to  my  room,  and 
scarcely  had  I finished  when  one  of  my  cousins,  a little  girl 
of  eight  years,  came  to  my  door  and  said  : 

“ Harry,  come  down;  Clara  wants  you.” 

I rushed  downstairs,  and  as  I entered  the  breakfast-parlor, 
Stood  still  with  surprise.  The  ladies  were  all  dressed  in  white, 


3 48  HARRY  L ORRRQ  U&R 

and  even  my  little  cousin  wore  a gala  costume  that  amazed 
me. 

“ My  bouquet,  Harry ; I hope  you  have  not  forgotten  it,” 
said  Clara,  as  I approached. 

I presented  it  at  once,  when  she  gayly  and  coquettishly 
held  out  her  hand  for  me  to  kiss.  This  I did,  my  blood  rush- 
ing to  my  face  and  temples  the  while,  and  almost  depriving 
me  of  consciousness. 

“ Well,  Clara,  I am  surprised  at  you,”  said  Mortimer. 

“ How  can  you  treat  the  poor  boy  so  ? ” 

I grew  deadly  pale  at  these  words,  and,  turning  round,  v 
looked  at  the  speaker  full  in  the  face.  Poor  fellow,  thought 
I,  he  is  jealous,  and  I am  really  grieved  for  him  ; and  turned 
again  to  Clara. 

“ Here  it  is — oh  ! how  handsome,  papa,”  said  one  of  the 
younger  children,  running  eagerly  to  the  window,  as  a very 
pretty  open  carriage  with  four  horses  drew  up  before  the  house. 

“ The  bishop  has  taste,”  I murmured  to  myself,  scarcely 
deigning  to  give  a second  look  at  the  equipage. 

Clara  now  left  the  room,  but  speedily  returned — her  dress 
changed,  and  shawled  as  if  for  a walk.  What  could  all  this 
mean  ? — and  the  whispering,  too,  what  is  all  that  ? — and  why 
are  they  all  so  sad  ? — Clara  has  been  weeping. 

“ God  bless  you,  my  child — good-bye,”  said  my  aunt,  as  she 
folded  her  in  her  arms  for  the  third  time. 

“ Good-bye,  good-bye,”  I heard  on  every  side.  At  length, 
approaching  me,  Clara  took  my  hand  and  said  : 

“ My  poor  Harry,  so  we  are  going  to  part.  I am  going  to 
Italy.” 

“ To  Italy,  Clara  ? Oh  ! no — say  no.  Italy  ! I shall  never 
see  you  again.” 

“ Won’t  you  wear  this  ring  for  me,  Harry  ? It  is  an  old 
favorite  of  yours — and  when  we  meet  again ” 

“ Oh  ! dearest  Clara,”  I said,  “ do  not  speak  thus.” 

“ Good-bye,  my  poor  boy,  good-bye,”  said  Clara,  hurriedly  ; 
and,  rushing  out  of  the  room,  she  was  lifted  by  Mortimer  into 
the  carriage,  who  immediately  jumped  in  after  her,  the  whip 
cracked,  the  horses  clattered,  and  all  was  out  of  sight  in  a 
second. 

“ Why  is  she  gone  with  him  ? ” said  I,  reproachfully,  turn- 
ing toward  my  aunt. 

“ Why,  my  dear,  a very  sufficient  reason.  She  was  married 
this  morning.” 

This  was  my  first  love. 


HARRY  LORRE QUER, 


349 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

WISE  RESOLVES. 

Musing  over  this  boyish  adventure,  I fell  into  a deep 
slumber,  and  on  awakening  it  took  me  some  minutes  before 
I could  recall  my  senses  sufficiently  to  know  where  I was. 
The  whole  face  of  things  in  my  room  was  completely  changed. 
Flowers  had  been  put  in  the  china  vases  upon  the  tables — 
two  handsome  lamps,  shaded  with  gauzes,  stood  upon  the 
consoles — illustrated  books,  prints,  and  caricatures  were 
scattered  about.  A pianoforte  had  also,  by  some  witchcraft, 
insinuated  itself  into  a recess  near  the  sofa — a handsome  little 
tea-service,  of  old  Dresden  china,  graced  a small  marquetry 
table — and  a little  picquet  table  stood  most  invitingly  beside 
the  fire.  I had  scarcely  time  to  turn  my  eyes  from  one  to 
the  other  of  these  new  occupants,  when  I heard  the  handle 
of  my  door  gently  turn,  as  if  by  some  cautious  hand,  and 
immediately  closed  my  eyes  and  feigned  sleep.  Through  my 
half-shut  lids  I perceived  the  door  opened.  After  a pause  of 
about  a second  the  skirt  of  a white  muslin  dress  appeared — 
then  a pretty  foot  stole  a little  further — and  at  last  the  slight 
and  graceful  figure  of  Emily  Bingham  advanced  noiselessly 
into  the  room.  Fear  had  rendered  her  deadly  pale,  but  the 
effect  of  her  rich  brown  hair,  braided  plainly  on  either  side 
of  her  cheek,  suited  so  well  the  character  of  her  features,  I 
thought  her  far  handsomer  than  ever.  She  came  forward 
toward  the  table,  and  I now  could  perceive  that  she  had  some- 
thing in  her  hand  resembling  a letter.  This  she  placed  near 
my  hand — so  near  as  almost  to  touch  it.  She  leaned  over  me 
— I felt  her  breath  upon  my  brow,  but  never  moved.  At  this 
instant  a tress  of  her  hair,  becoming  unfastened,  fell  over 
upon  my  face.  She  started — the  motion  threw  me  off  my 
guard,  and  I looked  up.  She  gave  a faint,  scarce  audible 
shriek,  and  sank  into  the  chair  beside  me.  Recovering,  how- 
ever, upon  the  instant,  she  grasped  the  letter  she  had  just  laid 
down,  and  hayng  crushed  it  between  her  fingers,  threw  it 
into  the  fire.  This  done — as  ii  the  effort  had  been  too  mush 


35° 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


for  her  strength — she  again  fell  back  upon  her  seat,  and  looked 
so  pale  I almost  thought  she  had  fainted. 

“ Before  I had  time  to  speak  she  rose  once  more ; and  now 
her  face  was  bathed  in  blushes,  her  eyes  swam  with  rising 
tears,  and  her  lips  trembled  with  emotion  as  she  spoke : 

“ Oh,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  what  will  you — what  can  you  think 

of  this  ? If  you  but  knew ” ; and  here  she  faltered  and 

again  grew  pale,  while  I,  with  difficulty  rising  from  the  sofa, 
took  her  hand,  and  led  her  to  the  chair  beside  it. 

“ And  may  I not  know?”  said  I ; “may  I not  know,  my 
dear  ” — I am  not  sure  I did  not  say  dearest — “ Miss  Bing- 
ham, when,  perhaps  the  knowledge  might  make  me  the  hap- 
piest of  mortals  ? ” 

This  was  a pretty  plunge  as  a sequel  to  my  late  resolution. 
She  hid  her  face  between  her  hands,  and  sobbed  for  some 
seconds. 

“ At  least,”  said  I,  “ as  that  letter  was  destined  for  me  but 
a few  moments  since,  I trust  that  you  will  let  me  hear  its  con- 
tents.” 

“Oh,  no — not  now — not  now,”  said  she,  entreatingly,  and, 
rising  at  the  same  time,  she  turned  to  leave  the  room.  I still 
held  her  hand,  and  pressed  it  within  mine.  I thought  she 
returned  the  pressure.  I leaned  forward  to  catch  her  eye, 
when  the  door  was  opened  hastily,  and  a most  extraordinary 
figure  presented  itself. 

It  was  a short,  fat  man,  with  a pair  of  enormous  mustaches 
of  a fiery  red ; huge  bushy  whiskers  of  the  same  color ; a 
blue  frock  covered  with  braiding,  and  decorated  with  several 
crosses  and  ribbons  ; tight  pantaloons  and  Hessian  boots, 
with  long  brass  spurs.  He  held  a large  gold-headed  cane  in 
his  hand,  and  looked  about  with  an  expression  of  very  equivo- 
cal drollery  mingled  with  fear. 

“ May  I ask,  sir,”  said  I,  as  this  individual  closed  the  door 
behind  him — “ may  I ask  the  reason  for  this  intrusion  ? ” 

“Oh,  upon  my  conscience,  IT1  do — I’m  sure  to  pass  mus- 
ter now,”  said  the  well-known  voice  of  Mr.  O’Leary,  whose 
pleasant  features  began  to  dilate  amidst  the  forest  of  red  hair 
he  was  disguised  in.  “But  I see  you  are  engaged,”  said  he, 
with  a sly  look  at  Miss  Bingham,  whom  he  had  not  yet  recog- 
nized. “ So  I must  contrive  to  hide  myself  elsewhere,  I sup- 
pose.” 

“ It  is  Miss  Bingham,”  said  I,  “ who  has  been  kind  enough 
to  come  here  with  her  maid,  to  bring  me  some  flowers.  Pray 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 35  r 

present  my  respectful  compliments  to  Mrs.  Bingham,  and  say 
how  deeply  I feel  her  most  kind  attention.” 

Emily  rose  at  the  instant,  and  recovering  her  self-posses- 
sion at  once,  said : 

“ You  forget,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  it  is  a secret  from  whom  the 
flowers  came  ; at  least  mamma  hoped  to  place  them  in  your 
vases  without  your  knowledge.  So  pray  don’t  speak  of  it — • 
and  I’m  sure  Mr.  O’Leary  will  not  tell.” 

If  Mr.  O’Leary  heard  one  word  of  this  artful  speech,  I 
know  not,  but  he  certainly  paid  no  attention  to  it,  nor  the 
speaker,  who  left  the  room  without  his  appearing  aware  of  it. 

“ Now  that  she  is  gone — for  which  heaven  be  praised,”  said 
I to  myself — “let  me  see  what  this  fellow  can  mean.” 

As  I turned  from  the  door,  I could  scarcely  avoid  laughing 
aloud  at  the  figure  before  me.  He  stood  opposite  a large 
mirror,  his  hat  on  one  side  of  his  head,  one  arm  in  his  breast 
and  the  other  extended,  leaning  upon  his  stick ; a look  of  as 
much  ferocity  as  such  features  could  accomplish  had  been 
assumed,  and  his  whole  attitude  was  a kind  of  caricature  of 
a melodramatic  hero  in  a German  drama. 

“ Why,  O’Leary,  what  is  all  this  ? ” 

“ Hush,  hush  ! ” said  he,  in  a terrified  whisper — “ never 
mention  that  name  again  till  we  are  over  the  frontier.” 

“ But,  man,  explain — what  do  you  mean  ? ” 

“ Can’t  you  guess  ? ” said  he,  dryly. 

“ Impossible,  unless  the  affair  at  the  saloon  has  induced 
you  to  take  this  disguise,  I cannot/ conceive  the  reason.” 

“ Nothing  further  from  it,  my  dear  friend  ; much  worse 
than  that.” 

“ Out  with  it,  then,  at  once.” 

“ She’s  come — she’s  here — in  this  very  house — No.  39, 
above  the  entresol.” 

“Who  is  here,  in  No.  29,  above  the  entresol?” 

“Who  but  Mrs.  O’Leary  herself  1 I was  near  saying  bad 
luck  to  her.” 

“And  does  she  know  you  are  here?  ’ 

“ That  is  what  I can’t  exactly  say,”  said  he,  “ but  she  has 
had  the  Livre  des  Voyageurs  brought  up  to  her  room,  and 
has  been  making  rather  unpleasant  inquiries  for  the  proprie- 
tor of  certain  hieroglyphics  beginning  with  O,  which  have 
given  me  great  alarm  ; the  more,  as  all  the  waiters  have  been 
sent  for  in  turn,  and  subjected  to  long  examination,  by  her. 
So  I have  lost  no  time,  but,  under  the  auspices  of  your  friend 


HARR Y L ORkEQUER. 


Trevanion.  have  become  the  fascinating  figure  you  find  me, 
and  am  now  Comte  O’Lieuki,  a Pole  of  noble  family,  banished 
by  the  Russian  government,  with  a father  in  Siberia,  and  all 
that ; and  I hope  by  the  end  of  the  week  to  be  able  to  cheat 
at  eccirte,  and  deceive  the  very  police  itself.” 

The  idea  of  O’Leary’s  assuming  such  a metamorphosis 
was  too  absurd  not  to  throw  me  into  a hearty  fit  of  laughing, 
in  which  the  worthy  emigre  indulged  also. 

“ But  why  not  leave  this  at  once,”  said  I,  “ if  you  are  so 
much  in  dread  of  a recognition  ? ” 

“ You  forget  the  trial,”  added  O’Leary.  “ I must  be  here 
on  the  18th,  or  all  my  bail  is  forfeited.” 

“ True — I had  forgotten  that.  Well,  now,  your  plans ” 

“ Simply  to  keep  very  quiet  here,  till  the  affair  of  the  tribu- 
nal is  over,  and  then  quit  France  at  once.  Meanwhile, 
Trevanion  thinks  that  we  may,  by  a bold  stratagem,  send 
Mrs.  O’Leary  off  on  a wrong  scent,  and  he  has  requested 
Mrs.  Bingham  to  contrive  to  make  her  acquaintance,  and  ask 
her  to  tea  in  her  room,  when  she  will  see  me,  en  Polonais,  at 
a distance,  you  know — hear  something  of  my  melancholy 
destiny  from  Trevanion — and  leave  the  hotel  quite  sure  she 
has  no  claim  on  me.  Meanwhile,  some  others  of  the  party 
are  to  mention  incidentally  having  met  Mr.  O’Leary  some- 
where, or  heard  of  his  decease,  or  any  pleasant  little  incident 
that  may  occur  to  them.” 

“ The  plan  is  excellent,”  said  I,  “ for  in  all  probability 
she  may  never  come  in  your  way  again,  if  sent  off  on  a good 
errand  this  time.” 

“ That’s  what  I’m  thinking,”  said  O’Leary ; “ and  I am 
greatly  disposed  to  let  her  hear  that  I’m  with  Belzoni  in 
Egypt,  with  an  engagement  to  spend  the  Christmas  with  the 
Dey  of  Algiers.  That  would  give  her  a pretty  tour  for  the 
remainder  of  the  year,  and  show  her  the  pyramids.  But,  tel] 
me  fairly,  am  I a good  Pole  ? ” 

“ Rather  short,”  said  I,  “and  a little  too  fat,  perhaps.” 

“ That  comes  from  the  dash  of  the  Tartar  blood,  nothing 
more,  and  my.  mother  was  a Fin,”  said  he  : “ she’ll  never  ask 
whether  from  Carlow  or  the  Caucasus.  How  I revel  in  the 
thought  that  I may  smoke  in  company  without  a breach  of 
the  unities.  But  I must  go  ; there  is  a gentleman  with  a 
quinsy  in  No.  8,  that  gives  me  a lesson  in  Polish  this  morn* 
ing.  So  good-bye,  and  don’t  forget  to  be  well  enough  to 
night,  for  you  must  be  present  at  my  dtbutk 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


353 


O’Leary  had  scarcely  gone  when  my  thoughts  reverted  to 
Emily  Bingham.  I was  not  such  a coxcomb  as  to  fancy  her  in 
love  with  me;  yet  certainly  there  was  something  in  the  affair 
which  looked  not  unlike  it;  and  though,  by  such  a circum- 
stance, every  embarrassment  which  pressed  upon  me  had 
become  infinitely  greater,  I could  not  dissemble  from  myself 
a sense  of  pleasure  at  the  thought.  She  was  really  a very 
pretty  girl,  and  improved  vastly  upon  acquaintance. 

“ Les  absens  ont  tonjours  tort  ” is  the  truest  proverb  in  any 
language,  and  I felt  it  in  its  fullest  force  when  Trevanion 
entered  my  room. 

“Well,  Lorrequer,”  said  he,  “ your  time  is  certainly  not  likely 
to  hang  heavily  on  your  hands  in  Paris,  if  occupation  will 
prevent  it,  for  I find  you  are  just  now  booked  for  a new 
scrape.” 

“What  can  you  mean  ? ” said  I,  starting  up. 

“ Why,  O’Leary,  who  has  been,  since  your  illness,  the 
constant  visitor  at  the  Binghams, — dining  there  every  day, 
and  spending  his  evenings — has  just  told  me  that  the 
mamma  is  only  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  Sir  Guy  Lorrequer  in 
Paris  to  open  tne  trenches  in  all  form  ; and  from  what  she 
has  heard  of  Sir  Guy,  she  deems  it  most  likely  he  will  give  her 
every  aid  and  support  to  making  you  the  husband  of  the  fair 
Emily.”  . ^ v 

“ And  with  good  reason,  too,”  said  I ; “ for  if  my  uncle 
were  only  given  to  understand  that  I had  once  gone  far  in 
my  attentions,  nothing  would  induce  him  to  break  off  the 
match.  He  was  crossed  in  love  hin\self?  when  young,  and 
has  made  a score  of  people  miserable  since,  in  the  benevo- 
lent idea  of  marrying  them  against  every  obstacle.” 

“ How  very  smart  you  have  become,”  said  Trevanion, 
taking  a look  round  my  room,  and  surveying  in  turn  each  of 
the  new  occupants.  “ You  must  certainly  reckon  upon  seeing 
your  fair  friend  here,  or  all  this propriety  is  sadly  wasted.” 

This  was  the  time  to  explain  all  about  Miss  Bingham's 
visit,  and  I did  so,  of  course  omitting  any  details  which 
might  seem  to  me  needless,  or  involving  myself  in  incon- 
sistency. 

Trevanion  listened  patiently  to  the  end — was  silent  for 
some  moments — then  added  : 

“ And  you  never  saw  the  letter  ? ” 

“Of  course  not.  It  was  burned  before  my  eyes.” 

“I  think  the  affair  looks  very  serious,  Lorrequer.  You 


354 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


may  have  won  this  girl’s  affections.  It  matters  little  whether 
the  mamma  be  a hackneyed  match-maker,  or  the  cousin  a 
bullying  duellist.  If  the  girl  have  a heart,  and  that  you  have 
gained  it-— — ” 

“Then  I must  marry,  you  would  say.” 

“ Exactly  so — without  the  prompting  of  your  worthy  uncle, 
I see  no  other  course  open  to  you  without  dishonor.  My 
advice,  therefore,  is,  ascertain — and  that  speedily — how  far 
your  attentions  have  been  attended  with  the  success  you 
dread — and  then  decide  at  once.  Are  you  able  to  get  as  far 
as  Mrs.  Bingham’s  room  this  morning  ? If  so  come  along.  I 
shall  take  all  the  frais  of  la  chere  mamma  off  your  hands, 
while  you  talk  to  the  daughter,  and  half  an  hour’s  courage 
and  resolution  will  do  it  all.” 

Having  made  the  most  effective  toilet  my  means  would 
permit,  my  right  arm  in  a sling,  and  my  step  trembling  from 
weakness,  I sallied  forth  with  Trevanion  to  make  love  with 
as  many  fears  for  the  result  as  the  most  bashful  admirer 
ever  experienced,  wrhen  pressing  his  suit  upon  some  haughty 
belle — but  for  a far  different  reason.  $ 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  PROPOSAL. 

On  reaching  Mrs.  Bingham’s  apartments,  we  found  that  she 
had  just  left  home  to  wait  upon  Mrs.  O’Leary,  and,  conse- 
quently, that  Miss  Bingham  was  alone.  Trevanion,  there- 
fore, having  wished  me  a safe  deliverance  through  my  trying 
mission,  shook  my  hand  warmly  and  departed. 

I stood  for  some  minutes  irresolutely,  with  my  hand  upon 
the  lock  of  the  door.  To  think  that  the  next  few  moments 
may  decide  the  fortune  of  one’s  after-life  is  a sufficiently 
anxious  thought,  but  that  your  fate  may  be  so  decided  by 
compelling  you  to  finish  in  sorrow  what  you  have  begun  in 
folly,  is  still  more  insupportable.  Such,  then,  was  my  con- 
dition. I had  resolved  within  myself,  if  the  result  of  this 
meeting  should  prove  that  I had  won  Miss  Bingham’s  affec- 
tions, to  propose  for  her  at  once  in  all  form,  and  make  her  my 
wife.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I only  found  that  she  too  had 
amused  herself  with  a little  passing  flirtation,  why,  then,  I 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3SS 


was  a free  man  once  more;  but,  on  catechising  myself  a little 
closer,  also,  one  somewhat  disposed  to  make  love  de  novo . 

With  the  speed  of  lightning  my  mind  ran  over  every  pas- 
sage of  our  acquaintance — our  first  meeting — our  solitary 
walks — our  daily,  hourly  association— our  travelling  intimacy 
— the  adventure  at  Chantraine  ; — there  was,  it  is  true,  nothing 
in  all  this  which  could  establish  the  fact  of  wooing,  but  every- 
thing which  should  convince  an  old  offender  like  myself  that 
the  young  lady  was  “ en  prise,”  and  that  I myself — despite 
my  really  strong  attachment  elsewhere — was  not  entirely 
scatheless. 

“ Yes,”  said  I,  half  aloud,  as  I once  more  reviewed  the  past, 
“ it  is  but  another  chapter  in  my  history,  in  keeping  with  all 
the  rest — one  step  has  ever  led  me  to  a second,  and  so  on  to 
a third.  What  with  other  men  have  passed  for  mere  trifles, 
have  ever  with  me  become  serious  difficulties,  and  the  false 
enthusiasm  with  which  I ever  follow  any  object  in  life  blinds 
me  for  the  time,  and,  mistaking  zeal  for  inclination,  I never 
feel  how  my  heart  is  interested  in  success  till  the  fever  of 
pursuit  is  over.” 

These  were  pleasant  thoughts  for  one  about  to  throw  him- 
self at  a pretty  girl’s  feet,  and  pour  out  “ his  'soul  of  love 
before  her  ; ” but  that,  with  me,  was  the  least  part  of  it. 
Curran,  they  say,  usually  picked  up  his  facts  in  a case  from 
the  opposite  counsel’s  statements.  I always  relied  for  my 
conduct  in  carrying  on  anything  to  the  chance  circumstances 
of  the  moment,  and  trusted  to  my  animal  spirits  to  give  me 
an  interest  in'whatever,  for  the  time  being,  engaged  me. 

I opened  the  door.  Miss  Bingham  was  sitting  at  a table, 
her  head  leaning  upon  her  hands — some  open  letters  which 
lay  before  her  evidently  so  occupying  her  attention  that  my 
approach  was  unheard.  On  my  addressing  her,  she  turned 
round  suddenly,  and  became  at  first  deep  scarlet,  then  pale 
as  death ; while,  turning  to  the  table,  she  hurriedly  threw 
her  letters  into  a drawer,  and  motioned  me  to  a place  beside 
her. 

After  the  first  brief  and  commonplace  inquiry  for  my  health, 
and  hopes  for  my  speedy  recovery,  she  became  silent ; and 
I,  too,  primed  with  topics  innumerable  to  discuss — knowing 
how  short  my  time  might  prove  before  Mrs.  Bingham’s  return 
— could  not  say  a word.  “ \ hope,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  she, 
at  length,  “ that  you  have  incurred  no  risk  by  leaving  your 
room  so  early.” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


356 

“ I have  not,”  I replied,  “ but  even  were  there  a certainty 
of  it,  the  anxiety  I labored  under  to  see  and  speak  with  you 
alone  would  have  overcome  all  fears  on  this  account.  Since 
this  unfortunate  business  has  confined  me  to  my  chamber,  I 
have  done  nothing  but  think  over  circumstances  which  have 
at  length  so  entirely  taken  possession  of  me,  that  I must,  at 
any  sacrifice,  have  sought  an  opportunity  to  explain  to  you  ” 
— here  Emily  looked  down,  and  I continued — “ I need  scarcely 
say,  what  my  feelings  must  long  since  have  betrayed,  that  to 
have  enjoyed  the  daily  happiness  of  living  in  your  society,  of 
estimating  your  worth,  of  feeling  your  fascinations,  were  not 
the  means  most  in  request  for  him,  who  knew  too  well  how 
little  he  deserved  either  by  fortune  or  desert  to  hope  to  make 
you  his,  and  yet  how  little  has  prudence  or  caution  to  do 
with  situations  like  this.” 

She  did  not  guess  the  animus  of  this  speech.  “ I felt  all  I 
have  described  ; and  yet,  and  yet,  I lingered  on,  prizing  too 
dearly  the  happiness  of  the  present  hour,  to  risk  it  by  any 
avowal  of  sentiments  which  might  have  banished  me  from 
your  presence  forever.  If  the  alternation  of  these  hopes  and 
fears  have  proved  too  strong  for  my  reason  at  last,  I cannot 
help  it ; and  this  it  is  which  now  leads  me  to  make  this 
avowal  to  you.”  Emily  turned  her  head  away  from  me  ; but  her 
agitated  manner  showed  how  deeply  my  words  had  affected 
her ; and  I,  too,  now  that  I had  finished,  felt  that  I had  been 
“ coming  it  rather  strong.” 

“ I hoped,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  she  at  length,  ^ I hoped, 
I confess,  to  have  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking  with  you.” 
Then,  thought  I,  the  game  is  over,  and  Bishop  Luscombe  is 
richer  by  five  pounds  than  I wish  him.  “ Something,  I know 
not  what,  in  your  manner,  led  me  to  suspect  that  your  affec- 
tions might  lean  toward  me  : hints  you  have  dropped,  and, 
now  and  then,  your  chance  allusions  strengthened  the  belief, 
and  I determined,  at  length,  that  no  feeling  of  maidenly 
shame  on  my  part  should  endanger  the  happiness  of  either 
of  us,  and  I determined  to  see  you ; this  was  so  difficult,  that 
I wrote  a letter,  and  that  letter,  which  mightffiave  saved  me  all 
distressing  explanation,  I burned  before  you  this  morning.” 

“ But  why,  dearest  girl  ” — here  was  a plug — “ why,  if  the 
letter  could  remove  any  misconstruction,  or  could  be  the 
means  of  dispelling  any  doubt — -why  not  let  me  see  it  ? ” 

“ Hear  me  out,”  cried  she,  eagerly,  and  evidently  not. 
heeding  my  interruption,  “ I determined,  if  your  affections 


HARRY  LORREQOER . 


357 


tfere,  indeed  " — a flood  of  tears  here  broke  forth,  and 
drowned  her  words  ; her  head  sank  between  her  hands,  and 
she  sobbed  bitterly. 

“ Corpo  di  Baccho ! " said  I to  myself,  “ it's  all  over  with 
me  ; the  poor  girl  is  evidently  jealous,  and  her  heart  will 
break.5' 

“ Dearest,  dearest  Emily,"  said  I,  passing  my  arm  round 
her,  and  approaching  my  head  close  to  hers,  “ if  you  think 
that  any  other  love  than  yours  could  ever  beat  within  this 
heart — that  I could  see  you  hourly  before  me — live  beneath 
your  smile,  and  gaze  upon  your  beauty — and,  still  more  than 
all — pardon  the  boldness  of  the  thought — feel  that  I was  not 
indifferent  to  you." 

“ Oh  ! spare  me  this,  at  least,"  said  she,  turning  round  her 
tearful  eyes  upon  me,  and  looking  most  bewitchingly  beauti- 
ful. “ Have  I then  showed  you  this  plainly  ? " 

“ Yes,  dearest  girl ! That  instinct  which  tells  us  we  are 
loved  has  spoken  within  me.  And  here,  in  this  beating 
heart " 

“ Oh  ! say  no  more,"  said  she,  “ if  I have,  indeed,  gained 
your  affections " 

“ If — if  you  have,"  said  I,  clasping  her  to  my  heart,  while 
she  continued  to  sob  still  violently,  and  I felt  half  disposed 
to  blow  my  brains  out  for  my  success.  However,  there  is 
something  in  love-making,  as  in  fox-hunting,  which  carries 
you  along  in  spite  of  yourself,  and  I continued  to  pour  forth 
whole  rhapsodies  of  love  that  the  Pastor  Fido  could  not 
equal. 

“ Enough,"  said  she,  “ it  is  enough  that  you  love  me,  and 
that  I have  encouraged  your  so  doing.  But,  oh  ! tell  me 
once  more,  and  think  how  much  of  future  happiness  may  rest 
upon  your  answer — tell  me,  may  not  this  be  some  passing 
attachment,  which  circumstances  have  created,  and  others 
may  dispel  ? Say,  might  not  absence,  time,  or  another  more 
worthy " 

This  was  certainly  a very  rigid  cross-examination  when  I 
thought  the  trial  was  over  ; and  not  being  exactly  prepared 
for  it,  I felt  no  other  mode  of  reply  than  pressing  her  taper 
fingers  alternately  to  my  lips,  and  muttering  something  that 
might  pass  for  a declaration  of  love  unalterable,  but  to  my 
own  ears  resembled  a lament  on  my  folly. 

“ She  is  mine  now,"  thought  I,  “ so  we  must  e’en  make 
the  best  of  it ; and  truly  she  is  a very  handsome  girl,  though 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


35* 

not  a Lady  Jane  Callonby.  The  next  step  is  the  mamma  ; 
but  I do  not  anticipate  much  difficulty  in  that  quarter.5’ 

“ Leave  me  now,”  said  she,  in  a low  and  broken  voice ; 
“ but  promise  not  to  speak  of  this  meeting  to  any  one  before 
we  meet  again.  I have  my  reasons  ; believe  me  they  are 
sufficient  ones,  so  promise  me  this  before  we  part.” 

Having  readily  given  the  pledge  required,  I again  kissed 
her  hand  and  bade  farewell,  not  a little  puzzled  the  whole 
time  at  perceiving  that,  ever  since  my  declaration  and  ac- 
ceptance, Emily  seemed  anything  but  happy,  and  evidently 
struggling  against  some  secret  feeling  of  which  I knew  noth- 
ing. “ Yes,”  thought  I,  as  I wended  my  way  along  the  cor- 
ridor, “the  poor  little  girl  is  tremendously  jealous,  and  I 
must  have  said  many  a thing  during, our  intimacy  to  hurt 
her.  However,  that  is  all  past  and  gone  ; and  now  comes  a 
new  character  for  me  ; my  next  appearance  will  be  ‘ en  bon 
tnari ” 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THOUGHTS  UPON.  MATRIMONY  IN  GENERAL,  AND  THE  ARMY  IN 

PARTICULAR. THE  KNIGHT  OF  KERRY  AND  BILLY  M5CABE. 

“ So,”  thought  I,  as  I closed  the  door  of  my  room  behind 
me,  “ I am  accepted — the  die  is  cast  which  makes  me  a Bene- 
dict ; yet  heaven  knows  that  never  was  a man  less  disposed 
to  be  over-joyous  at  his  good  fortune  ! ”•  What  a happy  in- 
vention it  were,  if,  when  adopting  any  road  in  life,  we  could 
only  manage  to  forget  that  we  had  ever  contemplated  any 
other  ! It  is  the  eternal  looking  back  in  this  world  that  forms 
the  staple  of  all  our  misery  ; and  we  are  but  ill-requited  for 
such  unhappiness  by  the  brightest  anticipations  we  can  con- 
jure up  for  the  future:  How  much  of  all  that  “ past  ” was 
now  to  become  a source  of  painful  recollection^  and  to  how 
little  of  the  future  could  I look  forward  with  even  hope  ! 

Our  weaknesses  are  much  more  constantly  the  spring  of 
all  our  annoyances  and  troubles  than  even  our  vices.  The 
one  we  have  in  some  sort  of  subjection  ; we  are  perfectly 
slaves  to  the  others.  This  thought  came  home  most  forcibly 
to  my  bosom  as  I reflected  upon  the  step  which  led  me  on 
imperceptibly  to  my  present  embarrassment.  “ Well,  c'est 
Jini  now,”  said  I,  drawing  upon  that  bountiful  source  of  con- 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 


359 


solation  ever  open  to  the  man  who  mars  his  fortune — that 
“ what  is  past  can’t  be  amended  ; ” ‘which  piece  of  philoso- 
phy, as  well  as  its  twin  brother,  that  “ all  will  be  the  same  a 
hundred  years  hence,”  have  been  golden  rules  to  me  from 
childhood. 

^he  transition  from  one  mode  of  life  to  another  perfectly 
a nxe rent  has  ever  seemed  to  me  a great  trial  of  man’s  moral 
courage  ; besides  that  the  fact  of  quitting  forever  anything, 
no  matter  how  insignificant  or  valueless,  is  always  attended 
with  painful  misgivings.  My  bachelor  life  had  its  share  of 
annoyances  and  disappointments,  it  is  true ; but,  upon  the 
whole,  it  was  a most  happy  one — and  now  I was  about  to 
surrender  it  forever,  not  yielding  to  the  impulse  of  affec* ? ^ 
and  love  for  one  without  whom  life  \yas  valueless  to  me,  b. 
merely  a recompense  for  the  indulgence  of  that  fatal  habit  I 
had  contracted  of  pursuing  with  eagerness  every  shadow 
that  crossed  my  path.  All  my  early  friends — all  my  vagrant 
fancies — all  my  day-dreams  of  the  future  I was  now  to  sur- 
render— for  what  becomes  of  any  man’s  bachelor  friends 
when  he  is  once  married  ? Where  are  his  rambles  in  high 
and  by-ways  when  he  has  a wife,  and  what  is  left  for  antici- 
pation after  his  wedding,  except,  perhaps,  to  speculate  upon 
the  arrangement  of  his  funeral  ? To  a military  man,  more 
than  to  any  other,  these  are  serious  thoughts.  All  the  fasci- 
nations of  an  army  life,  in  war  or  peace,  lie  in  the  daily, 
hourly  associations  with  your  brother  officers — the  morning 
cigar,  the  barrack-square  lounge — the  afternoon  ride — the 
game  of  billiards  before  dinner — the  mess — (that  perfection 
of  dinner  society) — the  plans  for  the  evening — the  devilled 
kidney  at  twelve — forming  so  many  points  of  departure 
whence  you  sail  out  upon  your  daily  voyage  through,,  life. 
Versus  these  you  have  that  awful  perversion  of  all  that  is 
natural — an  officer’s  wife.  She  has  been  a beauty  when 
young,  had  black  eyes  and  high  complexion,  a good  figure, 
rather  inclined  to  embonpoint,  and  a certain  springiness  in 
her  walk,  and  a jauntiness  in  her  air,  that  are  ever  sure  at- 
tractions to  a sub  in  a marching  regiment.  She  can  play 
backgammon,  and  sing  “ di  tanti  palpiti,”  and,  if  an  Irish- 
woman, is  certain  to  be  able  to  ride  a steeple-chase,  and  has 
an  uncle  a lord,  who  (en  pareniJicse')  always  turns  out  to  be  a 
creation  made  by  King  James,  after  his  abdication.  In  con- 
clusion, she  breakfasts  en  papillote — wears  her  shoes  down  at 
heel — calls  every  officer  of  the  regiment  by  his  name — has  a 


HARRY  LCRREQURR. 


360 

great  taste  for  increasing  his  majesty’s  lieges,  and  delights  in 
London  porter.  To  this  genus  of  frow  I have  never  ceased 
to  entertain  the  most  thrilling  abhorrence  ; and  yet,  how 
often  have  I seen  what  appeared  to  be  pretty  and  interesting 
girls  fall  into  something  of  this  sort ! and  how  often  have  1 
vowed  any  fate  to  myself  rather  than  become  the  husband  of 
a baggage-wagon  wife. 

Had  all  my  most  sanguine  hopes  promised  realizing — had 
my  suit  with  Lady  Jane  been  favorable,  I could  scarcely 
have  bid  adieu  to  my  bachelor  life  without  a sigh.  No  pros- 
pect of  future  happiness  can  ever  perfectly  exclude  all  regret 
at  quitting  our  present  state  forever.  I am  sure,  if  I had 
been  a caterpillar,  it  would  have  been  with  a heavy  heart 
that  I would  have  donned  my  wings  as  a butterfly.  Now 
the  metamorphosis  was  reversed : need  it  be  wondered  if  I 
were  sad  ? 

So  completely  was  I absorbed  in  my  thoughts  upon  this 
matter  that  I had  not  perceived  the  entrance  of  O’Leary  and 
Trevanion,  who,  unaware  of  my  being  in  the  apartment,  as  I 
was  stretched  upon  a sofa  in  a dark  corner,  drew  their  chairs 
toward  the  fire  and  began  chatting. 

“ Do  you  know,  Mr.  Trevanion,”  said  O’Leary,  “ I am 
half  afraid  of  this  disguise  of  mine.  I sometimes  think  I 
am  not  like  a Pole : and  if  she  should  discover  me ” 

“ No  fear  of  that  in  the  world  ; your  costume  is  perfect, 
your  beard  unexceptionable.  I could,  perhaps,  have  desired 
a little  less  paunch  ; but  then ” 

“ That  comes  of  fretting,  as  Falstaff  says  ; and  you  must 
not  forget  that  I am  banished  from  my  country.” 

“ Now,  as  to  your  conversation,  I should  advise  your  say- 
ing very  little — not  one  word  of  English.  You  may,  if  you 
like,  call  in  the  assistance  of  Irish  when  hard  pressed.” 

“ I have  my  fears  on  that  score.  There  is  no  knowing 
where  that  might  lead  to  discovery.  You  know  the  story  of 
the  Knight  of  Kerry  and  Billy  M’Cabe  ? ” 

“ I fear  I must  confess  iny  ignorance — I have  never  heard 
of  it.” 

“ Then  may  be  you  never  knew  Giles  Daxon  ? ” 

“ I have  not  that  pleasure  either.” 

“ Lord  bless  me,  how  strange  that  is  ! I thought  he  was 
better  known  than  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  or  the  travelling 
piper.  Well,  I must  tell  you  the  story,  for  it  has  a moral,  too 
— indeed,  several  morals  ; but  you  will  find  that  out  for  your* 


HARR  Y LORREQUER . 361 

self.  Well,  it  seems  that  one  day  the  Knight  of  Kerry  was 
walking  along  the  Strand  in  London,  killing  an  hour’s  time, 
till  the  House  was  done  prayers,  and  Hume  tired  of  hearing 
himself  speaking ; his  eye  was  caught  by  an  enormous  pict- 
ure displayed  upon  the  wall  of  a house,  representing  a human 
figure  covered  with  long,  dark  hair,  with  huge  nails  upon  his 
hands,  and  a most  fearful  expression  of  face.  At  first  the 
Knight  thought  it  was  Dr.  Bowring ; but  on  coming  nearer 
he  heard  a man  with  a scarlet  livery  and  a cocked  hat  call 
out,  ‘Walk  in,  ladies  and  gentlemen — the  most  wonderful 
curiosity  ever  exhibited — only  one  shilling — the  wild  man 
from  Chippoowango,  in  Africa — eats  raw  wittals  without 
being  cooked,  and  many  other  surprising  and  pleasing  per- 
formances.’ 

“ The  Knight  paid  his  money,  and  was  admitted.  At  first 
the  crowd  prevented  his  seeing  anything — for  the  place  was 
full  to  suffocation  and  the  noise  awful — for,  besides  the  ex- 
clamations and  applause  of  the  audience,  there  were  three 
barrel-organs,  playing  ‘ Home,  Sweet  Home  ’ and  ‘ Cherry 
Ripe,’  and  the  wild  man  himself  contributed  his  share  to  the 
uproar.  At  last,  the  Knight  obtained,  by  dint  of  squeezing 
and  some  pushing,  a place  in  the  front,  when,  to  his  very 
great  horror,  he  beheld  a figure  that  far  eclipsed  the  portrait 
without  doors. 

“ It  was  a man  nearly  naked,  covered  with  long,  shaggy 
hair,  that  grew  even  over  his  nose  and  cheek-bones.  He 
sprang  about  sometimes  on  his  feet,  sometimes  on  all  fours, 
but  always  uttering  the  most  fearful  yells,  and  glaring  upon 
the  crowd  in  a manner  that*  was  really  dangerous.  The 
Knight  did  not  feel  exactly  happy  at  the  whole  proceeding, 
and  began  heartily  to  wish  himself  back  in  the  ‘ House,’  even 
upon  a committee  of  privileges,  when,  suddenly,  the  savage 
gave  a more  frantic  scream  than  before,  and  seized  upon  a 
morsel  of  raw  beef,  which  a keeper  extended  to  him  upon  a 
long  fork,  like  a tandem  whip — he  was  not  safe,  it  appears, 
at  close  quarters — this  he  tore  to  pieces  eagerly,  and 
devoured  in  the  most  voracious  manner,  amid  great  clapping 
of  hands,  and  other  evidences  of  satisfaction  from  the  audi- 
ence. I’ll  go  now,  thought  the  Knight ; for  God  knows 
whether,  in  his  hungry  moods,  he  might  not  fancy  to  con- 
clude his  dinner  by  a member  of  Parliament.  Just  at  this 
instant  some  sounds  struck  upon  his  ear  that  surprised  him 
not  a little.  He  listened  more  attentively  ; and  conceive,  if 


j62 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


you  can,  his  amazement,  to  find  that,  amid  his  most  fearful 
cries  and  wild  yells,;  the  savage  was  talking  Irish.  Laugh, 
if  you  like  ; but  it's  truth  I am  telling  you  : nothing  less  than 
Irish.  There  he  was  jumping  four  feet  high  in  the  air,  eat- 
ing  his  raw  meat ; pulling  out  his  hair  by  handfuls ; and, 
amid  all  this,  cursing  the  whole  company  to  his  heart’s  con- 
tent, in  as  good  Irish  as  was  ever  heard  in  Tralee.  Now, 
though  the  Knight  had  heard  of  red  Jews  and  white  negroes, 
he  had  never  happened  to  read  any  account  of  an  African 
Irishman  ; so,  he  listened  very  closely,  and  by  degrees  not 
only  words  were  known  to  him,  but  the  very  voice  was  famil- 
iar. At  length,  something  he  heard,  left  no  further  doubt 
upon  his  mind,  and,  turning  to  the  savage,  he  addressed 
him  in  Irish,  at  the  same  time  fixing  a look  of  most  scrutin- 
izing import  upon  him. 

“ ‘ Who  are  you,  you  scoundrel  ? ’ said  the  Knight. 

“ ‘ Billy  M’Cabe,  your  honor/ 

“ ‘ And  what  do  you  mean  by  playing  off  these  tricks  here, 
instead  of  earning  your  bread  like  an  honest  man  ? ’ 

u ‘ Whist,’  said  Billy,  4 and  keep  the  secret.  I’m  earning 
the  rent  for  your  honor.  One  must  do  many  a queer  thing 
that  pays  two  pound  ten  an  acre  for  bad  land.’  ” 

This  was  enough : the  Knight  wished  Billy  every  success, 
and  left  him  amid  the  vociferous  applause  of  a well-satisfied 
audience.  This  adventure,  it  seems,  has  made  the  worthy 
Knight  a great  friend  to  the  introduction  of  poor  laws  ; for, 
he  remarks  very  truly,  “ More  of  Billy’s  countrymen  might 
take  a fancy  to  a savage  life,  if  the  secret  was  found  out.” 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  preserve  my  incognito,  as  Mr. 
O’Leary  concluded  his  story,  and  I was  obliged  to  join  in 
the  mirth  of  Trevanion,  who  laughed  loud  and  long  as  he 
finished  it. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

A REMINISCENCE. 

O’Leary  and  Trevanion  had  scarcely  left  the  room  when 
the  waiter  entered  with  two  letters — the  one  bore  a German 
postmark,  and  was  in  the  well-known  hand  of  Lady  Callonby 
— the  other  in  a writing  with  which  I was  no  less  familiar — 
that  of  Emily  Bingham.  Let  any  one  who  has  been  patient 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


363 


enough  to  follow  me  through  these  “ Confessions  ” conceive 
my  agitation  at  this  moment.  There  lay  my  fate  before  me, 
coupled,  in  all  likelihood,  with  a view  of  what  it  might  have 
been  under  happier  auspices — at  least  so  in  anticipation  did 
I read  the  two  unopened  epistles.  My  late  interview  with 
Miss  Bingham  left  no  doubt  upon  my  mind  that  I had 
secured  her  affections  ; and  acting  in  accordance  with  the 
counsel  of  Trevanion,  no  less  than  of  my  own  sense  of  right, 

[ resolved  upon  marrying  her,  with  what  prospect  of  happi- 
ness I dared  not  to  think  of ! 

Alas  1 and  alas  ! there  is  no  infatuation  like  the  taste  for 
flirtation — mere  empty,  valueless,  heartless  flirtation.  You 
hide  the  dice-box  and  the  billiard  cue,  lest  your  son  become 
a gambler — you  put  aside  the  racing  calendar,  lest  he  imbibe 
a jockey  predilection — but  you  never  tremble  at  his  fondness 
for  white  muslin  and  a satin  slipper,  fax  more  dangerous  ^ 
tastes  though  they  be,  and  infinitely  more  perilous  to  a 
man’s  peace  and  prosperity  than  all  the  “queens  of  trumps” 
that  ever  figured,  whether  on  pasteboard  or  the  Doncaster. 
“Woman’s  my  wakeness,  yer  honor,”  said  an  honest  Pat- 
lander,  on  being  charged  before  the  lord  mayor  with  having 
four  wives  living ; and  without  having  any  such  “ Algerine 
act  ” upon  my  conscience,  I must,  I fear,  enter  a somewhat 
similar  plea  for  my  downfallings,  and  avow,  in  humble 
gratitude,  that  I have  scarcely  had  a misfortune  through 
life  unattributable  to  them  in  one  way  or  another.  And  this 
I say  without  any  reference  to  country,  class,  or  complexion, 
“ black,  brown,  or  fair,”  from  my  first  step  forth  into  life, 
a raw  sub,  in  the  gallant  4-th,  to  this  same  hour,  I have  no 
other  avowal,  no  other  confession  to  make.  “ Be  always 
ready  with  the  pistol,”  was  the  dying  advice  of  an  Irish 
statesman  to  his  sons:  mine,  in  a similar  circumstance, 
would  rather  be,  “ Gardez  vous  des  femmes ,”  and  more  espec- 
ially if  they  be  Irish. 

There  is  something  almost  treacherous  in  the  facility  with 
which  an  Irish  girl  receives  your  early  attentions,  and  appears 
to  like  them,  that  invariably  turns  a young  fellow’s  head 
very  long  before  he  has  any  prospect  of  touching  her  heart. 
She  thinks  it  so  natural  to  be  made  love  to,  that  there  is 
neither  any  affected  coyness  nor  any  agitated  surprise.  She 
listens  to  your  declaration  of  love  as  quietly  as  the  chief 
justice  would  to  one  of  law,  and  refers  the  decision  to  a 
packed  jury  of  her  relatives,  who  rarely  recommend  you  to 


HARR  y L ORREQUER , 


364 

mercy.  Love  and  fighting,  too,  are  so  intimately  united  in 
Ireland,  that  a courtship  rarely  progresses  without  at  least 
one  exchange  of  shots  between  some  of  the  parties  concerned. 
My  first  twenty-four  hours  in  Dublin  is  so  pleasantly  char- 
acteristic of  this,  that  I may  as  well  relate  it  here  while 
the  subject  is  before  us;  besides,  as  these  “ Confessions ” 
are  intended  as  warnings  and  guides  to  youth,  I may  convey 
a useful  lesson,  showing  why  a man  should  not  “ make  love 
in  the  dark.” 

It  was  upon  a raw,  cold,  drizzling  morning  in  February, 
1 8 — , that  our  regiment  landed  on  the  north  wall  from 
Liverpool,  whence  we  had  been  hurriedly  ordered  to  repress 
some  riots  and  disturbances  then  agitating  Dublin. 

We  marched  to  the  Royal  Barracks,  our  band  playing 
Patrick’s  Day,  to  the  very  considerable  admiration  of  as 
naked  a population  as  ever  loved  music.  The  — th  Dragoons 
were  at  the  same  time  quartered  there — right  pleasant,  jovial 
fellows,  who  soon  gave  us  to  understand  that  the  troubles 
were  over  before  we  arrived,  and  that  the  great  city  author- 
ities were  now  returning  thanks  for  their  preservation  from 
fire  and  sword  by  a series  of  entertainments  of  the  most 
costly,  but  somewhat  incongruous  kind — the  company  being 
scarce  less  melee  than  the  dishes.  Peers  and  play-actors, 
judges  and  jailers,  archbishops,  tailors,  attorneys,  ropemakers 
and  apothecaries,  all  uniting  in  the  festive  delight  of  good 
feeding  and  drinking  the  “ glorious  memory  ” — but  of  whom 
half  the  company  knew  not,  only  surmising  “ it  was  some- 
thing agin  the  papists.”  You  may  smile,  but  these  were 
pleasant  times,  and  I scarcely  care  to  go  back  there  since 
they  were  changed.  But  to  return.  The  — th  had  just  re- 
ceived an  invitation  to  a ball  to  be  given  by  the  high  sheriff, 
and  to  which  they  most  considerately  said  we  should  also  be 
invited.  This  negotiation  was  so  well  managed  that  before 
noon  we  all  received  our  cards  from  a green-liveried  youth 
mounted  upon  a very  emaciated  pony — the  whole  turn-out 
not  auguring  flatteringly  of  the  high  sheriff’s  taste  in  equipage. 

We  dined  with  the  — th,  and,  as  customary  before  going  to 
an  evening  party,  took  the  “ other  bottle  ” of  claret  that  lies 
beyond  the  frontier  of  prudence.  In  fact,  from  the  lieutenant- 
colonel  down  to  the  newly-joined  ensign,  there  was  not  a face 
in  the  party  that  did  not  betray  “ signs  of  the  times,”  that 
boded  most  favorably  for  the  mirth  of  the  sheriff’s  ball.  We 
^rere  so  perfectly  up  to  the  mark  that  our  major,  a Conne- 


BARR  Y L ORREQ UER.  365 

mara  man,  said,  as  we  left  the  mess-room,  “ a liqueur  glass 
would  spoil  us.” 

In  this  acme  of  our  intellectual  wealth,  we  started  about 
eleven  o’clock  upon  every  species  of  conveyance  that  chance 
could  press  into  the  service.  Of  hackney-coaches  there 
were  few — but  in  jingles,  noddies,  and  jaunting-cars,  with 
three  on  a side  and  “ one  in  the  well,”  we  mustered  strong- — 
down  Barrack  Street  we  galloped,  the  mob  cheering  us,  we 
laughing,  and,  I’m  afraid,  shouting  a little  too — the  watchmen 
springing  their  rattles,  as  if  instinctively,  at  noise,  and  the 
whole  population  up  and  awake,  evidently  entertaining  a 
high  opinion  of  our  convivial  qualities.  Our  voices  became 
gradually  more  decorous,  however,  as  we  approached  the 
more  civilized  quarter  of  the  town  ; and,  with  only  the 
slight  stoppage  of  the  procession  to  pick  up  an  occasional 
dropper-off,  as  he  lapsed  from  the  seat  of  a jaunting-car,  we 
arrived  at  length  at  our  host’s  residence,  somewhere  in 
Sackville  Street. 

Had  our  advent  conferred  the  order  of  knighthood  upon 
the  host,  he  could  not  have  received  us  with  more  em- 
pressement.  He  shook  us  all  in  turn  by  the  hand,  to  the 
number  of  eight-and-thirty,  and  then  presented  us  seriatim  to 
his  spouse,  a very  bejewelled  lady  of  some  forty  years — who, 
what  between  bugles,  feathers,  and  her  turban,  looked  ex- 
cessively like  a Chinese  pagoda  upon  a saucer.  The  rooms 
were  crowded  to  suffocation — the  noise  awful — and  the  com- 
pany crushing  and  elbowing  rather  a little  more  than  you 
expect  where  the  moiety  are  of  the  softer  sex.  However, 
“on  s'habitui  a toute”  sayeth  the  proverb,  and  with  truth,  for 
we  all  so  perfectly  fell  in  with  the  habits  of  the  place,  that, 
ere  half  an  hour,  we  squeezed,  ogled,  leered,  and  drank 
champagne  like  the  rest  of  the  corporation. 

“ Devilish  hot  work  this,”  said  the  colonel,  as  he  passed 
me  with  two  rosy-cheeked,  smiling  ladies  on  either  arm  ; 
“ the  mayor — that  little  fellow  in  the  punch-colored  shorts — • 
has  very  nearly  put  me  hors  du  combat  with  champagne  ; 
take  care  of  him,  I advise  you.” 

Tipsy  as  I felt  myself,  I was  yet  sufficiently  clear  to  be 
fully  alive  to  the  droliery  of  the  scene  before  me.  Flirtations 
that,  under  other  circumstances,  would  demand  the  secrecy 
and  solitude  of  a country  green  lane,  or  some  garden  bower, 
were  here  conducted  in  all  the  open  effrontery  of  wax  lights 
and  lustres  ; looks  were  interchanged,  hands  were  squeezed, 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


366 

and  soft  things  whispered,  and  smiles  returned ; till  the  in- 
toxication of  “ punch  negus  ” and  spiced  port  gave  way  to 
the  far  greater  one  of  bright  looks  and  tender  glances.  Qua- 
drilles and  country  dances — waltzing  there  was  none  (perhaps 
all  for  the  best) — whist,  backgammon,  loo — unlimited  for 
uproar — sandwiches,  and  warm  liquors,  employed  us  pretty 
briskly  till  supper  was  announced,  when  a grand  squeeze 
took  place  on  the  stairs — the  population  tending  thitherward 
with  an  eagerness  that  a previous  starvation  of  twenty-four 
hours  c.ould  alone  justify.  Among  this  dense  mass  of  moving 
muslin,  velvet,  and  broadcloth,  I found  myself  chaperoning 
an  extremely  tempting  little  damsel,  with  a pair  of  laughing 
blue  eyes  and  dark  eyelashes,  who  had  been  committed  to 
my  care  and  guidance  for  the  passage. 

“ Miss  Moriarty,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  an  old  lady  in  green 
and  spangles,  who  I afterward  found  was  the  lady  mayoress. 

“ The  nicest  girl  in  the  room,”  said  a gentleman  with  a 
Tipperary  accent,  “ and  has  a mighty  nice  place  near  Ath- 
lone.” 

The  hint  was  not  lost  upon  me,  and  I speedily  began  to 
faire  Faimable  to  my  charge  ; and  before  we  reached  the 
supper-room,  learned  certain  particulars  of  her  history,  which 
I have  not  yet  forgot.  She  was,  it  seems,  sister  to  a lady 
then  in  the  room,  the  wife  of  an  attorney,  who  rejoiced  in 
the  pleasing  and  classical  appellation  of  Mr.  Mark  Anthony 
Fitzpatrick  ; the  aforesaid  Mark  Anthony  being  a tall,  raw- 
boned,  black-whiskered,  ill-looking  dog,  that  from  time  to 
time  contrived  to  throw  very  uncomfortable  looking  glances 
at  me  and  Mary  Anne,  for  she  was  so  named,  the  whole  time 
of  supper.  After  a few  minutes,  however,  I totally  forgot 
him,  and,  indeed,  everything  else,  in  the  fascination  of  my 
fair  companion.  She  shared  her  chair  with  me,  upon  which 
I supported  her  by  my  arm  passed  round  the  back.  We  ate 
our  pickled  salmon,  jelly,  blanc  mange,  cold  chicken,  ham 
and  custard,  oh  the  same  plate,  with  an  occasional  squeeze 
of  the  finger,  as  our  hands  met — her  eyes  making  sad  havoc 
with  me  all  the  while,  as  I poured  my  tale  of  love — love, 
lasting,  burning,  all-consuming — into  her  not  unwilling  ear. 

“ Ah  1 now,  ye’re  not  in  earnest  ? ” 

“ Yes  ! Mary  Anne,  by  all  that’s ” 

“Well,  there  now,  don’t  swear,  and  take  care — sure,  Mark 
Anthony  is  looking.” 

“ Mark  Anthony  be ” 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


3^7 

“ Oh  ! how  passionate  you  are  ! I’m  sure  I never  could  live 
easy  with  you.  There,  now,  give  me  some  sponge-cake,  and 
don’t  be  squeezing  me  or  they’ll  see  you.” 

“ Yes,  to  my  heart,  dearest  girl.” 

“Och,  it’s  cheese  you’re  giving  me,”  said  she,  with  a 
grimace  that  nearly  cured  my  passion. 

“ A cottage,  a hut,  with  you — with  you , ” said  I,  in  a 
cadence  that  I defy  Macready  to  rival — “ what  is  worldly 
splendor,  or  the  empty  glitter  of  rank ” 

I here  glanced  at  my  epaulets,  on  which  I saw  her  eyes 
rivetted. 

“ Isn’t  the  ginger  beer  beautiful  ? ” said  she,  emptying  a 
glass  of  champagne. 

Still  L was  not  to  be  roused  from  my  trance,  and  continued 
my  courtship  as  warmly  as  ever. 

“ I suppose  you’ll  come  home  now”  said  a gruff  voice  be- 
hind Mary  Anne. 

I turned  and  perceived  Mark  Anthony,  with  a grim  look  of 
peculiar  import. 

“ Oh,  Mark  dear,  I’m  engaged  to  dance  another  set  with 
this  gentleman.” 

“Ye  are,  are  ye?”  replied  Mark,  eyeing  me  askance. 
“ Troth  and  I think  the  gentleman  would  be  better  if  he  went 
off  to  his  flea-bag  himself.” 

In  my  then  mystified  intellect  this  west  country  synonym 
for  a bed  a little  puzzled  me. 

“Yes,  sir,  the  lady  is  engaged  to  me , have  you  anything  to 
say  to  that  ? ” 

“ Nothing  at  present,  at  all,”  said  Mark,  almost  timidly. 

“ Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear,”  sobbed  Mary  Anne ; “ they’re  going 
to  fight  and  he’ll  be  killed — I know  he  will.” 

For  wffiich  of  us  this  fate  was  destined  I stopped  not  to 
consider,  but  taking  the  lady  under  my  arm,  elbowed  my  way 
to  the  drawing-room,  amid  a very  sufficient  patting  upon  the 
back,  and  thumping  between  the  shoulders,  bestowed  by 
members  of  the  company  who  approved  of  my  proceedings. 
The  three  fiddles,  the  flute,  and  bassoon,  that  formed  our 
band,  being  by  this  time  sufficiently  drunk,  played  after  a 
fashion  of  their  own,  which,  by  one  of  those  strange  sym- 
pathies of  our  nature,  imparted  its  influence  to  our  legs,  and 
a country  dance  was  performed  in  a style  of  free  and  easy 
gesticulation  that  defies  description.  At  the  end  of  eighteen 
couples,  tired  of  my  exertions — and  they  were  not  slight — I 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


368 

leaned  my  back  against  the  wall  of  *the  room,  which  I nowt 
for  the  first  time,  perceived  was  covered  with  a very  peculiar 
and  novel  species  of  hanging,  no  less  than  a kind  of  rough, 
green  baize  cloth  that  moved  and  floated  at  every  motion  of  the 
air.  I paid  little  attention  to  this  till,  suddenly  turning  my  head, 
something  gave  way  behind  it.  I felt  myself  struck  upon 
the  back  of  the  neck,  and  fell  forward  into  the  room,  covered 
by  a perfect  avalanche  of  fenders,  fire-irons,  frying-pans,  and 
copper  kettles,  mingled  with  the  lesser  artillery  of  small  nails, 
door-keys,  and  hold-fasts.  There  I lay,  amid  the  most 
vociferous  mirth  I ever  listened  to,  under  the  confounded 
torrent  of  ironmongery  that  half-stunned  me.  The  laughter 
over,  I was  assisted  to  rise,  and  having  drunk  about  a pint  of 
vinegar,  and  had  my  face  and  temples  washed  in  strong 
whisky  punch,  the  allocation  of  the  fluids  being  mistaken,  I 
learned  that  our  host,  the  high  sheriff,  was  a celebrated  tin 
and  iron  man,  and  that  his  salles  de  reception  were  no  other 
than  his  magazine  of  metals,  and  that  to  conceal  the  well- 
filled  shelves  from  the  gaze  of  his  aristocratic  guests,  they 
were  clothed  in  the  manner  related  ; which  my  unhappy  head, 
by  some  misfortune,  displaced,  and  thus  brought  on  a 
calamity  scarcely  less  afflicting  to  him  than  to  myself.  I 
should  scarcely  nave  stopped  to  mention  this  here,  were  it 
not  that  Mary  Anne’s  gentle  nursing  of  me  in  my  misery  went 
far  to  complete  what  her  fascination  had  begun  ; and  although 
she  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  occurrence,  I forgave  her 
readily  for  her  kindness. 

“ Remember,”  said  I,  trying  to  ogle  through  a black  eye, 
painted  by  the  angle  of  a register  grate,  “ remember,  Mary 
Ahne,  I am  to  see  you  home.” 

“Oh  ! dear,  sir,  sure  I don’t  know  how  you  can  manage 
it ” 

Here  Mark  Anthony’s  entrance  cut  short  her  speech,  for 
he  came  to  declare  that  some  of  the  officers  had  taken  his 
coach,  and  was,  as  might  be  supposed,  in  a towering  pas- 
sion. 

“ If,  sir,”  said  I,  with  an  air  of  the  most  balmy  courtesy, 
“ if  I can  be  of  any  use  in  assisting  you  to  see  your  friends 
home ” 

“ Ah  ! then,  ye’re  a nice  looking  article  to  see  ladies  home. 
I wish  you  seen  yourself  this  minute,”  said  he. 

As  I felt  it  would  be  no  breach  of  the  unities,  time,  place, 
and  everything  considered,  to  smash  his  skull,  I should  cer- 


HARR  Y L ORREQ UER.  369 

tairiiy  have  proceeded  to  do  so,  had  not  a look  of  tl^e  most 
imploring  kind  from  Mary  Anne  restrained  me.  By  this 
time  he  had  taken  her  under  the  arm,  and  was  leading  her 
away.  I stood  irresolute,  till  a glance  from  my  charmer 
caught  me  ; when  I rallied  at  once,  and  followed  them  down- 
stairs. Here  the  scene  was  to  the  full  as  amusing  as  above ; 
the  cloaking,  shawling,  shoeing,  etc.,  of  the  ladies  being  cer- 
tainly as  mirth-moving  a process  as  I should  wish  to  see. 
Here  were  mothers  trying  to  collect  their  daughters,  as  a hen 
her  chickens,  and  as  in  that  case,  the  pursuit  of  one  usually 
lost  all  the  others  ; testy  papas  swearing,  lovers  leering,  as 
they  twisted  the  boas  round  the  fair  throats  of  their  sweet- 
hearts ; vows  of  love,  mingling  with  lamentations  for  a lost 
slipper  or  a stray  mantle.  Sometimes  the  candles  were  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  melee  became  greater,  till  the  order  and 
light  were  restored  together.  Meanwhile,  each  of  our  fellows 
had  secured  his  fair  one,  save  myself,  and  I was  exposed  to 
no  small  ridicule  for  my  want  of  s avoir  faire.  /Nettled  by 
this,  I made  a plunge  to  the  corner  of  the  room,  where  Mary 
Anne  was  shawling  ; I recognized  her  pink  sash,  threw  her 
cloak  over  her  shoulders,  and  at  the  very  moment  that  Mark 
Anthony  drew  his  wife’s  arm  within  his,  I performed  the 
same  by  my  friend,  and  followed  them  to  the  door.  Here,  the 
grim  brother-in-law  turned  around  to  take  Mary  Anne’s  arm, 
and  seeing  her  with  me,  merely  gave  a kind  of  hoarse  chuckle, 
and  muttered  : “ Very  well,  sir  ; upon  my  conscience,  you 
will  have  it,  I see.”  During  this  brief  interval,  so  occupied 
was  I in  watching  him,  that  I never  once  looked  in  my  fair 
friend’s  face ; but  the  gentle  squeeze  of  her  arm,  as  she 
leaned  upon  me,  assured  me  that  I had  her  approval  of  what 
I was  doing. 

What  was  the  precise  train  of  my  thoughts,  and  what  the 
subjects  of  conversation  between  us,  I am  unfortunately  now 
unable  to  recollect.  It  is  sufficient  to  remember  that  I could 
not  believe  five  minutes  had  elapsed,  when  we  arrived  at 
York  Street.  “Then  you  confess  you  love  me,”  said  I,  as  I 
squeezed  her  arm  to  my  side. 

“ Then  by  this  kiss,”  said  I,  “ I swear  never  to  relin- 
quish  ” 

What  I was  about  to  add  I am  sure  I know  not ; but  true 
it  is,  that  a certain  smacking  noise  here  attracted  Mr.  Mark 
Anthony’s  attention,  who  started  round,  looked  us  full  in  the 
face,  and  then  gravely  added,  “ Enough  is  as  good  as  a feast. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


37° 

I*  wish  you  pleasant  dreams,  Mr.  Larry  Kar,  if  that’s  you! 
name  ; and  you’ll  hear  from  me  in  the  morning/’ 

“ I intend  it,”  said  I.  “ Good-night,  dearest  ; think 
of ” 

The  slam  of  the  street-door  in  my  face  spoiled  the  perora- 
tion, and  I turned  toward  home. 

By  the  time  I reached  the  barracks,  the  united  effects  of 
champagne,  sherry,  and  Sheffield  iron  had,  in  a good  measure, 
subsided,  and  my  head  had  become  sufficiently  clear  to  per- 
mit a slight  retrospect  of  the  evening’s  amusement. 

From  two  illusions  I was  at  least  awakened : — First,  the 
high  sheriff’s  ball  was  not  the  most  accurate  representation 
of  high  society  ; secondly,  I was  not  deeply  enamored  of 
Mary  Anne  Moriarty.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  and  how  little 
soever  the  apparent  connection  between  those  two  facts,  the 
truth  of  one  had  a considerable  influence  in  deciding  the 
other.  “ N'importe said  I,  “the  thing  is  it  was  rather  good 
fun,  too,  upon  the  whole,  saving  the  i chute  des  casseroles ; ’ 
and  as  to  the  lady,  she  must  have  seen  it  was  a joke  as  well 
as  myself.  At  least,  so  I am  decided  it  shall  be ; and  as 
there  was  no  witness  to  our  conversation,  the  thing  is  easily 
got  out  of.” 

The  following  day,  as  I was  dressing  to  ride  out,  my  serv- 
ant announced  no  less  a person  than  Mr.  Mark  Anthony 
Fitzpatrick,  who  said  “ that  he  came  upon  a little  business, 
and  must  see  me  immediately.” 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  upon  being  announced,  speedily  opened 
his  negotiation  by  asking  in  very  terse  and  unequivocal 
phrase,  my.  intentions  regarding  his  sister-in-law.  After  pro- 
fessing the  most  perfect  astonishment  at  the  question,  and 
its  possible  import,  I replied,  that  she  was  a most  charming 
person,  with  whom  I intended  to  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do. 

“ And  may  be  you  never  proposed  for  her  at  the  ball  last 
night  ? ” 

“ Propose  for  a lady  at  a ball,  the  first  time  I ever  met 
her  ! ” / 

“Just  so.  Can  you  carry  youi*  memory  so  far  back?  or, 
perhaps,  I had  better  refresh ; ” and  he  here  repeated  the 
whole  substance  of  my  conversation  on  the  way  homeward, 
sometimes  in  the  very  words  I used. 

“ But,  my  dear  sir,  the  young  lady  could  never  have  sup* 
posed  I used  such  language  as  this  you  have  repeated  ? ” 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


37* 


“ So,  then,  you  intend  to  break  off  ? Well,  then,  it’s  right 
to'  tell  you  that  you’re  in  a very  ugly  scrape ; for  it  was  my 
wife  you  took  home  last  night— not  Miss  Moriarty  ; and  1 
leave  you  to  choose  at  your  leisure,  whether  you’d  rather  be 
defendant  in  a suit  for  breach  of  promise  or  seduction  ; and, 
upon  my  conscience,  I think  it’s  civil  in  me  to  give  you  a 
choice.” 

What  a pretty  disclosure  was  here  ! So  that  while  I was 
imagining  myself  squeezing  the  hand  and  winning  the  heart 
of  the  fair  Mary  Anne,  I was  merely  making  a case  of  strong 
evidence  for  a jury,  that  might  expose  me  to  the  world  and 
half  rum  me  in  damages.  There  was  but  one  course  open — 
to  make  a fight  for  it ; and,  from  what  I saw  of  my  friend 
Mark  Anthony,  this  did  not  seem  difficult. 

I accordingly  assumed  a high  tone,  laughed  at  the  entire 
affair,  said  it  was  a “way  we  had  in  the  army,”  that  “ we 
never  meant  anything  by  it,”  etc.,  etc. 

In  a few  minutes  I perceived  the  bait  was  taking.  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick’s  west  country  blood  was  up ; all  thought  of  the 
legal  resource  was  abandoned ; and  he  flung  out  of  the  room 
to  find  a friend,  I having  given  him  the  name  of  “ one  of 
ours  ” as  mine  upon  the  occasion. 

Very  little  time  was  lost,  for  before  three  o’clock  that  after- 
noon a meeting  was  fixed  for  the  following  morning  at  the 
North  Bull,  and  I had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  that  I only 
escaped  the  malignant  eloquence  of  Holmes  in  the  King’s 
Bench,  to  be  “ olazed  ” at  by  the  best  shot  on  the  western 
circuit.  The  thought  was  no  way  agreeable,  and  I indemni- 
fied myself  for  the  scrape  by  a very  satisfactory  anathema 
upon  the  high  sheriff  and  his  ball,  and  his  confounded  sauce- 
pans; for  to  the  lady’s  sympathy  for  my  sufferings  I attrib- 
uted much  of  my  folly. 

At  eight  the  next  morning  I found  myself  standing  with 
Curzon  and  the  doctor  upon  that  bleak  portion  of  her 
majesty’s  dpminion  they  term  the  North  Bull,  waiting  in  a 
chilly  rain  and  a raw  fog,  till  it  pleased  Mark  Anthony  Fitz- 
patrick to  come  and  shoot  me — such  being  the  precise  terms 
of  our  combat,  in  the  opinion  of  all  parties. 

The  time,  however,  passed  on,  and  half-past  eight,  three 
quarters,  and  at  last  nine  o’clock,  without  his  appearing ; 
when,  just  as  Curzon  had  resolved  upon  our  leaving  the 
ground,  a hack  jaunting-car  was  seen  driving  at  full  speed 
along  the  road  near  us.  It  came  nearer  and  at  length  drew 


37* 


HARR  y L OR  RE  Q UER. 


up ; two  men  leaped  off  and  came  toward  us ; one  of  whoUi 
as  he  came  forward,  took  off  his  hat  politely,  and  introduced 
himself  as  Mr.  O’Gorman,  the  fighting  friend  of  Mark  An- 
thony. 

“ It’s  a mighty  unpleasant  business  I’m  come  upon,  gentle- 
men,” said  he ; “ Mr.  Fitzpatrick  has  been  unavoidably  pre- 
vented from  having  the  happiness  to  meet  you  this  morn- 


in 


%T 

hen  you  can’t  expect  us,  sir,  to  dance  attendance  upon 
him  here  to-morrow,”  said  Curzon,  interrupting. 

“ By  no  manner  of  means,”  replied  the  other,  placidly ; “ for 
it  would  be  equally  inconvenient  for  him  to  be  here  then. 
But  I have  only  to  say,  that  as  I’m  here  for  my  friend,  and 
know  all  the  particulars  of  the  case,  maybe  you’d  have  the 
kindness  to  waive  all  etiquette,  and  let  me  stand  in  his 
place.” 

“ Certainly  and  most  decidedly  not,”  said  Curzon. 
14  Waive  etiquette  ! — why,  sir,  we  have  no  quarrel  with  you  ; 
never  saw  you  before.” 

“Well,  now,  isn’t  this  hard?”  said  Mr.  O’Gorman,  address- 
ing his  friend,  who  stood  by  with  a pistol-case  under  his  arm ; 
“ but  I told  Mark  that  I was  sure  they’d  be  standing  upon 
punctilio,  for  they  were  English.  Well,  sir,”  said  he,  turning 
toward  Curzon,  “there’s  but  one  way  to  arrange  it  now,  that 
I see.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  you  must  know,  was  arrested  this 
morning  for  a triile  of  ^140.  If  you  or  your  friend  there 
will  join  us  in  the  bail,  we  can  get  him  out,  and  he’ll  fight 
you  in  the  morning  to  your  satisfaction.” 

When  the  astonishment  this  proposal  had  created  sub- 
sided, we  assured  Mr.  O’Gorman  that  we  were  noways  dis- 
posed to  pay  such  a price  for  our  amusement,  a fact  that 
seemed  considerably  to  surprise  both  him  and  his  friend, 
and  adding,  that  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  personally,  we  should 
feel  bound  to  hold  ourselves  pledged  at  a future  period,  we 
left  the  ground,  Curzon  laughing  heartily  at  the  original  ex- 
pedient thus  suggested,  while  I inwardly  pronounced  a most 
glowing  eulogy  on  the  law  of  imprisonment  for  debt. 

Before  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  obtained  the  benefit  of  the  act,  we 
were  ordered  abroad,  and  I have  never  since  heard  of  him. 


m 


HARR  Y L, GRRRQU  RR* 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE  TWO  LETTERS. 

From  the  digression  of  the  last  chapter  I was  recalled  by 
the  sight  of  the  two  letters  which  lay  during  my  reverie  un- 
opened before  me.  I first  broke  the  seal  of  Lady  Callonby’s 
epistle,  which  ran  thus : 

“ Munich,  La  Croix  Blanche. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Lorrequer, — I have  just  heard  from 
Kilkee,  that  you  are  at  length  about  to  pay  us  your  long 
promised  visit,  and  write  these  few  lines  to  beg  that  before 
leaving  Paris  you  will  kindly  execute  for  me  the  commissions 
of  which  I inclose  a formidable  list,  or  at  least  as  many  of 
them  as  you  can  conveniently  accomplish.  Our  stay  here 
now  will  be  so  short  that  it  will  require  all  your  dispatch  to 
overtake  us  before  reaching  Milan,  Lady  Jane’s  health  re- 
quiring an  immediate  change  of  climate.  Our  present  plans 
are,  to  winter  in  Italy,  although  such  will  interfere  consider- 
ably with  Lord  Callonby,  who  is  pressed  much  by  his  friends 
to  accept  office.  However,  all  this  and  our  other  gossip  I 
reserve  for  our  meeting.  Meanwhile,  adieu ; and  if  any  of 
my  eviplettes  bore  you,  omit  them  at  once,  except  the  white 
roses  and  the  Brussels  veil,  which  Lady  Jane  is  most  anxious 
for.  Sincerely  yours, 

“ Charlotte  Callonby.” 

How  much  did  these  few  and  apparently  commonplace 
lines  convey  to  me  ? First,  my  visit  was  not  only  expected, 
but  actually  looked  forward  to,  canvassed — perhaps  I might 
almost  whisper  to  myself  the  flattery — wished  for.  Again, 
Lady  Jane’s  health  was  spoken  of  as  precarious,  less  actual 
illness,  I said  to  myself,  than  mere  delicacy,  requiring  the 
bluer  sky  and  warmer  airs  of  Italy.  Perhaps  her  spirits  were 
affected — some  mental  malady — some  ill-placed  passion — que 
sais  jet  In  fact,  my  brain  ran  on  so  fast  in  its  devisings, 
that  by  a quick  process,  less  logical  than  pleasing,  I satis- 
fied myself  that  the  lovely  Lady  Jane  Callonby  was  actually 


374 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


in  love,  with  whom  let  the  reader  guess  at.  And  Lord 
Callonby,  too,  about  to  join  the  ministry — well,  all  the 
better  to  have  one’s  father-in-law  in  power — promotion  is  so 
cursed  slow  nowadays.  And,  lastly,  the  sly  allusion  to 
the  commissions — the  mechancete  of  introducing  her  name  to 
interest  me.  With  such  materials  as  these  to  build  upon,  frail 
as  they  may  seem  to  others,  I found  no  difficulty  in  regard- 
ing myself  as  the  dear  friend  of  the  family,  and  the  ac- 
knowledged suitor  of  Lady  Jane. 

In  the  midst,  however,  of  all  my  self-gratulation,  my  eye 
fell  upon  the  letter  of  Emily  Bingham,  and  I suddenly 
remembered  how  fatal  to  all  such  happy  anticipations  it 
might  prove.  I tore  it  open  in  passionate  haste,  and  read  : 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Lorrequer, — As,  from  the  interview  we 
have  had  this  morning,  I am  inclined  to  believe  that  I have 
gained  your  affections,  I think  that  I should  ill  requite  such  a 
state  of  your  feeling  for  me,  were  I to  conceal  that  I cannot 
return  you  mine  ; in  fact,  they  are  not  mine  to  bestow.  This 
frank  avowal,  whatever  pain  it  may  have  cost  me,  I think  I owe 
to  you  to  make.  You  will,  perhaps,  say  the  confession  should 
have  been  earlier ; to  which  I reply,  it  should  have  been  so, 
had  I known,  or  even  guessed  at,  the  nature  of  your  feelings 
for  me.  For — and  I write  it  in  all  truth,  and  perfect  respect 
for  you — I only  saw  in  your  attentions  the  flirting  habits  of  a 
man  of  the  world,  with  a very  uninformed  and  ignorant  girl 
of  eighteen,  with  whom,  as  it  was  his  amusement  to  travel,  he 
deemed  it  worth  his  while  to  talk.  I now  see  and  bitterly 
regret  my  error,  yet  deem  it  better  to  make  this  painful  con- 
fession than  suffer  you  to  remain  in  a delusion  which  may 
involve  your  happiness  in  the  wreck  of  mine. 

“ I am,  most  faithfully  your  friend, 

“ Emily  Bingham.” 

' “ What  a charming  girl  she  is  ! ” I cried  as  I finished  the 
letter  ; “ how  full  of  true  feeling,  how  honorable,  how  straight- 
forward : and  yet  it  is  devilish  strange  how  cunningly  she 
played  her  part— and  it  seems  now  that  I never  did  touch 
her  affections ; Master  Harry,  I begin  to  fear  you  are  not 
altogether  the  awful  lady-killer  you  have  been  thinking.” 
Thus  did  I meditate  upon  this  singular  note — my  delight  at 
being  once  more  “free”  mingling  with  some  chagrin  that  I 
was  jockeyed,  and  by  a young  miss  of  eighteen,  too.  Con- 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


375 


foundedly  disagreeable  if  the  mess  knew  it,  thought  I.  Per 
Baccho  ! — how  they  would  quiz  upon  my  difficulty  to  break  off 
a match,  when  the  lady  was  only  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me. 

This  affair  must  never  come  to  their  ears,  or  I am  ruined; 
and  now,  the  sooner  all  negotiations  are  concluded  the  better. 
I must  obtain  a meeting  with  Emily,  acknowledge  the  truth 
and  justice  of  all  her  views,  express  my  deep  regret  at  the 
issue  of  the  affair,  slyly  hint  that  I have  been  merely  playing  her 
own  game  back  upon  her ; for  it  would  be  the  devil  to  let  her 
go  off  with  the  idea  that  she  had  singed  me,  yet  never  caught 
fire  herself ; so  that  we  both  shall  draw  stakes,  and  part 
friends. 

This  valiant  resolution  taken,  I wrote  a very  short  note, 
begging  an  interview,  and  proceeded  to  make  as  formidable 
a toilet  as  I could  for  the  forthcoming  meeting  ; before  I had 
concluded  which,  a verbal  answer  by  her  maid  informed  me 
that  “ Miss  Bingham  was  alone,  and  ready  to  receive  me.” 

As  I took  my  way  along  the  corridor,  I could  not  help 
feeling, that  among  all  my  singular  scrapes  and  embarrassing 
situations  through  life,  my  present  mission  was  certainly  not 
the  least ; the  difficulty,  such  as  it  was,  being  considerably 
increased  by  my  own  confounded  amour  propre , that  would 
not  leave  me  satisfied  with  obtaining  my  liberty,  if  I could 
not  insist  upon  coming  off  scatheless  also.  In  fact,  I was 
not  content  to  evacuate  the  fortress,  if  I were  not  to  march 
out  with  all  the  honors  of  wrar.  This  feeling  I neither  attempt 
to  palliate  nor  defend.  I merely  chronicle  it,  as  are  too  many 
of  these  Confessions,  as  a matter  of  truth,  yet  not  the  less  a 
subject  for  sorrow. 

My  hand  was  upon  the  lock  of  the  door.  I stopped,  hesi- 
tated, and  listened.  I certainly  heard  something.  Yes,  it 
is  too  true,  she  is  sobbing.  What  a total  overthrow  to  all 
my  selfish  resolves,  all  my  egotistical  plans,  did  that  slight 
cadence  give.  She  was  crying ; her  tears  for  the  bitter  pain 
she  concluded  I was  suffering  mingling  doubtless  with  sor- 
row for  her  own  sources  of  grief  ; for  it  was  clear  to  me  that 
whoever  may  .have  been  my  favored  rival,  the  attachment 
was  either  unknown  to  or  unsanctioned  by  the  mother.  I 
wished  I had  not  listened  ; all  my  determinations  were  comj 
pletely  routed,  and  as  I opened  the  door  I felt  my  heart 
beating  almost  audibly  against  my  side. 

In  a subdued  half-light — tempered  through  the  rose-colored 
curtains,  with  a small  Sevres  cup  of  newly-plucked  moss-roses 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


376 

upon  the  table — sat,  or  rather  leaned,  Emily  Bingham,  her 
face  buried  in  her  hands,  as  I entered.  She  did  not  hear 
my  approach,  so  that  I had  above  a minute  to  admire  the 
graceful  character  of  her  head,  and  the  fine  undulating  curve 
of  her  neck  and  shoulders,  before  I spoke. 

“ Miss  Bingham,”  said  I 

She  started — looked  up — her  dark  blue  eyes,  brilliant 
though  tearful,  were  fixed  upon  me  for  a second,  as  if  searching 
my  very  inmost  thoughts.  She  held  out  her  hand,  and  turn- 
ing her  head  aside,  made  room  for  me  on  the  sofa  beside  her. 
Strange  girl,  thought  I,  that  in  the  very  moment  of  breaking 
with  a man  forever,  puts  on  her  most  fascinating  toilet,  arrays 
herself  in  her  most  bewitching  manner,  and  gives  him  a re- 
ception only  calculated  to  turn  his  head,  and  render  him  ten 
times  more  in  love  than  ever.  Her  hand,  which  remained 
still  in  mine,  was  burning  as  if  in  fever,  and  the  convulsive 
movement  of  her  neck  and  shoulders  showed  me  how  much 
this  meeting  cost  her.  We  were  both  silent,  till  at  length, 
feeling  that  any  chance  interruption  might  leave  us  as  far  as 
ever  from  understanding  each  other,  I resolved  to  begin. 

“ My  dear,  dear  Emily,”  I said,  “ do  not,  I entreat  of  you, 
add  to  the  misery  I am  this  moment  enduring  by  letting  me 
see  you  thus.  Whatever  your  wrong  toward  me,  this  is  far 
too  heavy  a retribution.  My  object  was  never  to  make  you 
wretched,  if  I am  not  to  obtain  the  bliss  to  strive  and  make 
you  happy.” 

“ Oh,  Harry  ” — this  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  so 
called  me — “ how  like  you,  to  think  of  me — of  me,  at  such  a 
time,  as  if  I was  not  the  cause  of  all  our  present  unhappiness 
— but  not  wilfully,  * not  intentionally.  Oh,  no,  no — your 
attentions — the  flattery  of  your  notice,  took  me  at  once,  and, 
in  the  gratification  of  my  self-esteem,  I forgot  all  else.  I 
heard,  too,  that  you  were  engaged  to  another,  and  believing, 
as  I did,  that  you  were  trifling  with  my  affections,  I spared 
no  effort  to  win  yours.  I confess  it,  I wished  this  with  all 
my  soul.” 

“ And  now,”  said  I,  “ that  you  have  gained  them  ” — here 
was  a pretty  sequel  to  my  well  matured  plans  ! — “ and  now, 
Emily ” 

“ But  have  I really  done  so  ? ” said  she,  hurriedly  turning 
round,  and  fixfng  her  large  full  eyes  upon  me,  while  one  of 
her  hands  played  convulsively  through  my  hair — “ have  I 
your  heart — your  whole  heart  ? ” 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


377 

“Can  you  doubt  it,  dearest?”  said  I,  passionately  pressing 
her  to  my  bosom ; qnd  at  the  same  time  muttering,  “ What 
the  devil’s  in  the  wind  now ; we  are  surely  going  to  patch  up 
our  separation  and  make  love  in  earnest.” 

There  she  lay,  her  head  upon  my  shoulder,  her  long, 
brown,  waving  ringlets  falling  loosely  across  my  face  and  on 
my  bosom,  her  hand  in  mine.  What  were  her  thoughts  I 
cannot  guess;  mine,  God  forgive  me,  were  a fervent  wish 
either  for  her  mother’s  appearance,  or  that  the  hotel  would 
suddenly  take  fire,  or  some  other  extensive  calamity  arise  to 
put  the  finishing  stroke  to  this  embarrassing  situation. 

None  ot  these,  however,  were  destined  to  occur ; and  Emily 
lay  still  and  motionless  as  she  was,  scarce  seeming  to  breathe, 
and  pale  as  death.  “ What  can  this  mean  ? ” said  I ; “ surely 
this  is  not  the  usual  way  to  treat  with  a rejected  suitor ; if  it 
be,  why  then,  by  Jupiter,  the  successful  one  must  rather  have 
the  worst  ct  it ; and  I fervently  hope  that  Lady  Jane  be  not 
at  this  moment  giving  his  conge  to  some  disappointed  swain.” 
She  slowly  raised  her  long,  black-fringed  eyelids,  and  looked 
into  my  fare,  with  an  expression  at  once  so  tender  and  so 
plaintive,  that  I felt  a struggle  within  myself  whether  to  press 
her  to  my  heart,  or — what  the  deuce  was  the  alternative.  I 
hope  my  reader  knows,  for  I really  do  not.  “ And  after  all,” 
thought  1,  “ if  we  are  to  marry,  I am  only  anticipating  a 
little;  and  not,  why  then  a ‘ chaste  salute ,’  as  Winifred  Jen- 
kins calls  it,  she’ll  be  none  the  worse  for.”  Acting  at  once 
upon  this  resolve,  I leaned  downward,  and  passing  back  her 
ringlets  from  her  now  flushed  cheek,  I was  startled  by  my 
name,  which  I heard  called  several  times  in  the*  corridor. 
The  door  at  the  same  instant  was  burst  suddenly  open,  and 
Trevanior,  appeared. 

“ Harry-  Harry  Lorrequer,”  cried  he,  as  he  entered ; then 
suddenly  checking  himself,  added,  “A  thousand,  ten  thousand 
pardons.  But ” 

“ But  what,”  cried  I,  passionately,  forgetting  all  save  the 
situation  of  poor  Emily  at  the  moment,  “ what  can  jus- 
tify  ” 

“ Nothing,  certainly,  can  justify  such  an  intrusion,”  said 
Trevanicn,  finishing  my  sentence  for  me,  “except  the  very 
near  danger  you  run  this  moment  in  being  arrested. 
O’Leary's  imprudence  has  compromised  your  safety,  and  you 
must  leave  Paris  within  an  hour.” 

“ Oh,  Mr,  Trevanion,”  said  Emily,  who  by  this  time  had 


HARR  V L ORREQ  UER. 


37s 

regained  a more  befitting  attitude,  “pray  speak  out;  what  is 
it? — is  Harry — is  Mr.  Lorrequer,  I mean,  in  any  danger?” 

“Nothing  of  consequence,  Miss  Bingham,  if  he  only  act 
with  prudence,  and  be  guided  by  his  friends.  Lorrequer, 
you  will  find  me  in  your  apartments  in  half  an  hour — till 
then,  adieu.” 

While  Emily  poured  forth  question  after  question,  as  to 
the  nature  and  extent  of  my  present  difficulty,  I could  not 
help  thinking  of  the  tact  by  which  Trevanion  escaped,  leav- 
ing me  to  make  my  adieu  to  Emily  as  best  I might ; for  I 
saw  in  a glance  that  I must  leave  Paris  at  once.  I therefore 
briefly  gave  her  to  understand  the  affair  at  the  salon — which 
I suspected  to  be  the  cause  of  the  threatened  arrest ; and 
was  about  to  profess  my  unaltered  and  unalterable  attach- 
ment, when  she  suddenly  stopped  me. 

“ No,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  no.  All  is  over  between  us.  We 
must  never  meet  again — never.  We  have  been  both  playing 
a part.  Good-bye — good-bye ; do  not  altogether  forget  me — 
and  once  more,  Harry,  good-bye.” 

What  I might  have  said,  thought,  or  done,  I know  not ; 
but  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Bingham’s  carriage  at  the  door  left 
no  time  for  anything  but  escape.  So  once  more  pressing  her 
hand  firmly  to  my  lips,  I said — “ An  revoir , Emily,  au  revoir , 
not  good-bye,”  and  rushing  fr.om  the  room,  regained  my  own, 
just  as  Mrs.  Bingham  reached  the  corridor. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

MR.  O^LEARY’s  CAPTURE. 

Does  she  really  care  for  me  ? was  my  first  question  to 
myself  as  I left  the  room.  Is  this  story  about  pre-engaged 
affections  merely  a got-up  thing,  to  try  the  force  of  my 
attachment  for  her  ? for,  if  not,  her  conduct  is  most  inexpli- 
cable ; and  great  as  my  experience  has  been  in  such  affairs, 
I avow  myself  out-manceuvred.  While  I thought  over  this 
difficulty,  Trevanion  came  up,  and  in  a few  words  informed 
me  more  fully  upon  what  he  had  hinted  at  before.  It 
appeared  that  O’Leary,  much  more  alive  to  the  imperative 
necessity  of  avoiding  detection  by  his  spouse,  than  of  involv- 
ing himself  with  the  police,  had  thrown  out  most  dark  and 


379 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 

mysterious  hints  in  the  hotel  as  to  the  reason  of  his  residence 
at  Paris ; fully  impressed  with  the  idea  that,  to  be  a good 
Pole,  he  need  only  talk  “ revolutionary ;”  devote  to  the 
powers  below  all  kings,  czars,  and  kaisers ; weep  over  the 
wrongs  of  his  nation ; wear  rather  seedy  habiliments,  and 
smoke  profusely.  The  latter  were  with  him  easy  conditions, 
and  he  so  completely  acted  the  former  to  the  life,  that  he  had 
been  that  morning  arrested  in  the  Tuileries  gardens,  under 
several  treasonable  charges — among  others,  the  conspiracy, 
with  some  of  his  compatriots,  to  murder  the  minister  of  war. 

However  laughable  such  an  accusation  against  poor 
O’Leary,  one  circumstance  rendered  the  matter  anything  but 
ludicrous.  Although  he  must  come  off  free  of  this  grave 
offence,  yet  the  salon  transaction  would  necessarily  now 
become  known ; I should  be  immediately  involved,  and  my 
departure  from  Paris  prevented. 

“ So,”  said  Trevanion,  as  he  briefly  laid  before  me  the 
difficulty  of  my  position,  “ you  may  perceive  that,  however 
strongly  your  affections  may  be  engaged  in  a certain  quarter, 
it  is  quite  as  well  to  think  of  leaving  Paris  without  delay. 
O’Leary’s  arrest  will  be  followed  by  yours,  depend  upon  it ; 
and  once  under  the  surveillance  of  the  police,  escape  is  im- 
possible.” 

“ But  seriously,  Trevanion,”  'said  I,  nettled  at  the  tone  of 
raillery  he  spoke  in,  “you  must  see  that  there  is  nothing 
whatever  in  that  business.  I was  merely  taking  my  farewell 
of  the  fair  Emily.  Her  affections  have  been  long  since 
engaged,  and  I ” , 

“ Only  endeavoring  to  support  her  in  her  attachment  to 
the  more  favored  rival.  Is  it  not  so  ? ” 

“ Come,  no  quizzing.  Faith,  I began  to  feel  very  uncom- 
fortable about  parting  with  her  the  moment  that  I discovered 
that  I must  do  so.” 

u So  I guessed,”  said  Trevanion,  with  a dry  look,  “ from 
the  interesting  scene  I so  abruptly  trespassed  upon.  Biit 
you  are  right,  a little  bit  of  tendresse  is  never  misplaced,  so 
long  as  the  object  is  young,  pretty,  and,  still  more  than  all, 
disposed  for  it.” 

“ Quite  out ; but  perfectly  mistaken,  believe  me.  Emily 
not  only  never  cared  for  me,  but  she  has  gone  far  enough  to 
tell  me  so.” 

“ Then,  from  all  I know  of  such  matters,”  replied  he,  “ yt>u 
were  both  in  a very  fair  way  to  repair  that  mistake  on  her  part. 


g8o  HARRY  L6RREQUER. 

% 

But  hark  ! what  is  this  ? ” A tremendous  noise  in  the  street 
here  interrupted  our  colloquy,  and  on  opening  the  window  a 
strange  scene  presented  itself  to  our  eyes.  In  the  middle  of 
a dense  mass  of  moving  rabble,  shouting,  yelling,  and  scream- 
ing with  all  their  might,  were  two  gendarmes  with  a prisoner 
between  them.  The  unhappy  man  was  followed  by  a rather 
well-dressed,  middle-aged-looking  woman,  who  appeared  to 
be  desirous  of  bestowing  the  most  coram  publico  endearments 
upon  the  culprit,  who  a second  glance  showed  us  was  O’Leary. 

“ I tell  you,  my  dear  madam,  you  are  mistaken,”  said 
O’Leary,  addressing  her  with  great  sternness  of  manner  and 
voice. 

“ Mistaken  ! never,  never ! How  could  I ever  be  mistaken 
in  that  dear  voice,  those  lovely  eyes,  that  sweet  little  nose  ?” 

“ Take  her  away ; she’s  deranged,”  said  O’Leary  to  the 
gendarmes.  “ Sure,  if  I’m  a Pole,  that’s  enough  of  mis* 
fortune.” 

“ I’ll  follow  him  to  the  end  of  the  earth,  I will.” 

“ I’m  going  to  the  galleys,  God  be  praised, ’’said  O’Leary. 

“To  the  galleys — to  the  guillotine — anywhere,”  responded 
she,  throwing  herself  upon  his  neck,  much  less,  as  it  seemed, 
to  his  gratification  than  that  of  the  mob,  who  laughed  and 
shouted  most  uproariously. 

“ Mrs.  Ram,  ain’t  you  ashamed  ? ” 

“ He  calls  me  by  my  name,”  said  she,  “ and  he  attempts 
to  disown  me.  Pla  ! ha ! ha ! ” and  immediately  fell  off 
into  a strong  paroxysm  of  kicking,  and  pinching,  and  punch- 
ing the  by-standers,  a malady  well  known  under  the  name  of 
hysterics ; but  being  little  more  than  a privileged  mode,  among 
certain  ladies,  of  paying  off  some  scores,  which  it  is  not 
thought  decent  to  do  in  their  more  sober  moments. 

“ Lead  me  away — anywhere — convict  me  of  what  you  like,” 
said  he,  “ but  don’t  let  her  follow  me.” 

The  gendarmes,  who  little  comprehended  the  nature  of  the 
scene  before  them,  were  not  sorry  to  anticipate  a renewal  of 
it  on  Mrs.  Ram’s  recovery,  and  accordingly  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  march  on  with  O’Leary,  who  turned  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  Rivoli,  under  a shower  of  “meurtriers”  and  “scele- 
rats  ” from  the  mob,  that  fell,  fortunately,  most  unconsciously 
upon  his  ears. 

The  possibility  of  figuring  in  such  a procession  contributed 
much  to  the  force  of  Trevanion’s  reasonings,  and  I resolved 
to  leave  Paris-  at  once. 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


3Sl 

u Promise  me,  then,  to  involve  yourself  in  no  more  scrapes 
for  half  an  hour.  Pack  everything  you  shall  want  with  you, 
and,  by  seven  o'clock,  I shall  be  here  with  your  passport  and 
all  ready  for  a start” 

With  a beating  brain,  and  in  a whirlwind  of  conflicting 
thoughts,  I threw  my  clothes  hither  and  thither  into  my 
trunk ; Lady  Jane  and  Emily  both  flitting  every  instant  before 
my  imagination  ; and  frequently  an  irresolution  to  proceed 
stopping  all  my  preparations  for  departure,  I sat  down  mur- 
ing .upon  a chair,  and  half  determined  to  stay  where  I was, 
coute  qui  coute . Finally,  the  possibility  of  exposure  in  a trial 
had  its  weight.  I continued  my  occupation  till  the  last  coat 
was  folded,  and  the  lock  turned,  when  I seated  myself  oppo- 
site my  luggage,  and  waited  impatiently  for  my  friend's 
return. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE  JOURNEY. 

Trevanion  came  at  last.  He  had  obtained  my  passport, 
and  engaged  a carriage  to  convey  me  about  eight  miles,  where 
I should  overtake  the  diligence — such  a mode  of  travelling 
being  judged  more  likely  to  favor  my  escape,  by  attracting 
less  attention  than  posting.  It  was  past  ten  when  I left  the 
Rue  St.  Honore,  having  shaken  hands  with  Trevanion  for 
the  last  time,  and  charged  him  with  ten  thousand  soft  mes- 
sages for  the  “ friends”  I left  behind  me. 

When  I arrived  in  the  village  of  St.  Jacques,  the  diligence 
had  not  come  up.  To  pass  away  the  time,  I ordered  a little 
supper  and  a bottle  of  St.  Julien.  Scarcely  had  I seated  my- 
self to  my  “ cotelette,”  when  the  rapid  whirl  of  wheels  was 
heard  without,  and  a cab  drew  up  suddenly  at  the  door.  S* 
naturally  does  the  fugitive  suspect  pursuit,  that  my  immedi- 
ate impression  was  that  I was  followed.  In  this  notion  I 
was  strengthened  by  the  tones  of  a cracked,  discordant  voice, 
asking  in  very  peculiar  French  if  the  u diligence  had  passed  ? ” 
Being  answered  in  the  negative,  he  walked  into  the  room 
where  I was,  and  speedily,  by  his  appearance,  removed  any 
apprehensions  I had  felt  as  to  my  safety.  Nothing  could  less 
resemble  the  tall,  portly,  and  sturdy  bearing  of  a gendarme. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


than  the  diminutive  and  dwarfish  individual  before  me.  His 
height  could  scarcely  have  reached  five  feet,  of  which  the 
head  formed  fully  a fourth  part ; and  even  this  was  rendered 
in  appearance  still  greater  by  a mass  of  loosely  floating  black 
hair  that  fell  upon  his  neck  and  shoulders,  and  gave  him  much 
the  air  of  a “ black  lion  ” on  a sign-board.  His  black  frock, 
fur-collared  and  braided — his  ill-made  boots,  his  meerschaum 
projecting  from  his  breast-pocket — above  all,  his  unwashed 
hands,  and  a heavy  gold  ring  upon  his  thumb — all  made  up 
an  e?ise?nble  of  evidence  that  showed  he  could  be  nothing  but 
a German.  His  manner  was  bustling,  impatient,  and  had  it 
not  been  ludicrous,  would  certainly  be  considered  as  insolent 
to  every  one  about  him,  for  he  stared  each  person  abruptly 
in  the  face,  and  mumbled  some  broken  expression  of  his 
opinion  of  them  half  aloud  in  German.  His  comments  ran 
on  : “ Bon  soir,  monsieur,”  to  the  host ; “ Ein  bosewicht,  ganz 
sicher  ” — “ a scoundrel  without  doubt;  ” and  then  added,  still 
lower,  “ Rob  you  here  as  soon  as  look  at  you.”  “ Ah,  post- 
ilion ! comment  va  ? ” — “ much  more  like  a brigand,  after  all 

I know  which  I’d  take  you  for.”  “ Wer  fluchte  frau  ” — 
“ how  ugly  the  woman  is.”  This  compliment  was  intended 
for  the  hostess,  who  courtesied  down  to  the  ground  in  her 
ignorance.  At  last,  approaching  me,  he  stopped,  and  having 
steadily  surveyed  me,  muttered,  “ Ein  echter  Englander  ” — 
“ a thorough  Englishman,  always  eating.”  I could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  assure  him  that  I was  perfectly  aware  of  his 
flattering  impression  in  my  behalf,  though  I had  speedily  to 
regret  my  precipitancy  ; for,  less  mindful  of  the  rebuke  than 
pleased  at  finding  some  one  who  understood  German,  he  drew 
his  chair  beside  me,  and  entered  into  conversation. 

Every  one  has  surely  felt,  some  time  or  other  in  life,  the 
insufferable  annoyance  of  having  his  thoughts  and  reflections 
interfered  with  and  broken  in  upon  by  the  vulgar  imperti- 
nence and  egotism  of  some  “ bore,”  who,  mistaking  your 
abstraction  for  attention,  and  your  despair  for  delight,  inflicts 
upon  you  his  whole  life  and  adventures,  when  your  own  im- 
mediate destinies  are  perhaps  vacillating  in  the  scale. 

Such  a doom  was  now  mine  ! Occupied  as  I was  by  the 
hope  of  the  future,  and  my  fears  lest  any  impediment  to  my 
escape  should  blast  my  prospects  forever,  I preferred  appear- 
ing to  pay  attention  to  this  confounded  fellow’s  “ personal 
narrative,”  lest  his  questions,  turning  on  my  own  affairs, 
might  excite  suspicions  as  to  the  reasons  of  my  journey. 


HARRY  LORREQC/ER.  383 

I longed  most  ardently  for  the  arrival  of  the  diligence, 
trusting  that,  with  true  German  thrift,  my  friend  might  prefer 
the  cheapness  of  the  “ interieure  ” to  the  magnificence  of 
the  “ coupe,”  and  that  thus  I should  see  no  more  of  him. 
But  in  this  pleasing  hope  I was  destined  to  be  disappointed, 
for  I was  scarcely  seated  in  my  place  when  I found  him  be- 
side me.  The  third  occupant  of  this  “ privileged  den,”  as 
well  as  my  lamp-light  survey  of  him  permitted,  afforded  noth- 
ing to  build  on  as  a compensation  for  the  German.  He  was 
a tall,  lanky,  lantern- jawed  man,  with  a hook  nose  and  pro- 
jecting chin  ; his  hair,  which  had  only  been  permitted  to 
grow  very  lately,  formed  that  curve  upon  his  forehead  we  see 
in  certain  old-fashioned  horse-shoe  wigs  ; his  compressed  lip 
and  hard  features  gave  the  expression  of  one  who  had  seen 
a good  deal  of  the  world,  and  didn’t  think  better  of  it  in  con- 
sequence. I observed  that  he  listened  to  the  few  words  we 
spoke  while  getting  in  with  some  attention,  and  then*  like  a 
person  who  did  not  comprehend  the  language,  turned  his 
shoulder  toward  us,  and  soon  fell  asleep.  I was  now  left  to 
the  “ tender  mercies  ” of  my  talkative  companion,  who  cer- 
tainly spared  me  not.  Notwithstanding  my  vigorous  resolves 
to  turn  a deaf  ear  to  his  narratives,  I could  not  avoid  learn- 
ing that  he  was  the  director  of  music  to  some  German  prince 
— chat  he  had  been  to  Paris  to  bring  out  an  opera,  which 
having,  as  he  said,  a “ succes  pyramidal,”  he  was  about  to 
repeat  in  Strasbourg.  He  further  informed  me  that  a de- 
pute from  Alsace  had  obtained  for  him  a government  permis- 
sion to  travel  with  the  courier;  but  that  he  being  “ social  ” 
withal,  and  noways  proud,  preferred  the  democracy  of  the 
diligence  to  the  solitary  grandeur  of  the  caleche  (for  which 
heaven  confound  him ! ),  and  thus  become  my  present  com- 
panion. 

Music,  in  all  its  shapes  and  forms,  made  up  the  staple  of 
the  little  man’s  talk.  There  was  scarcely  an  opera  or  an  over- 
ture from  Mozart  to  Donizetti  that  he  did  not  insist  upon 
singing  a scene  from  ; and  wound  up  all  by  a very  pathetic 
lamentation  over  English  insensibility  to  music,  which  he  in 
great  part  attributed  to  our  having  only  one  opera,  which  he 
kindly  informed  me  was  “ Bob  et  Joan.”  However  indis- 
posed to  check  the  current  of  his  loquacity  by  any  effort  of 
mine,  I could  not  avoid  the  temptation  to  translate  for  him 
a story  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  once  related  to  me,  and  was  so 
far  apropos , as  conceiving  my  own  sense  of  the  merits  bf  our 


HARRY  L ORRE  Q UER. 


384 

national  music,  such  as  we  have  it,  by  its  associations  with 
scenes,  and  persons,  and  places  we  are  all  familiar  with, 
however  unintelligible  to  the  ear  of  a stranger. 

A young  French  vicomte  was  fortunate  enough  to  obtain 
in  marriage  the  hand  of  a singularly  pretty  Scotch  heiress 
of  an  old  family  and  good  fortune,  who,  amongst  her  other 
endowments,  possessed  a large  old-fashioned  house,  in  a 
remote  district  of  the  Highlands,  where  her  ancestors  had 
resided  for  centuries.  Thither  the  young  couple  repaired  tc 
pass  the  honeymoon  ; the  enamored  bridegroom  gladly  avail  - 
ing himself  of  the  opportunity  to  ingratiate  himself  with  his 
new  connection,  by  adopting  the  seclusion  he  saw  practised 
by  the  English  on  such  occasions.  However  consonant  to 
our  notions  of  happiness,  and  however  conducive  to  our  en- 
joyment this  custom  be — and  I have  strong  doubts  upon  the 
subject — it  certainly  prospered  ill  with  the  volatile  French- 
man, who  pined  for  Paris,  its  cafes,  its  boulevards,  its  mai- 
sons  de  jeu,  and  its  soirees.  His  days  were  passed  in  look- 
ing from  the  deep  and  narrow  windows  of  some  oak-framed 
room  upon  the  bare  and  heath-clad  moors,  or  watching  the 
clouds’  shadows  as  they  passed  across  the  dark  pine  trees 
that  closed  the  distance. 

Ennuy'ee  to  death,  and  convinced  that  he  had  sacrificed 
enough  and  more  than  enough  to  the  barbarism  which  de- 
manded such  a s'ejour , he  was  sitting  one  evening  listlessly 
upon  the  terrace  in  front  of  the  house,  plotting  a speedy 
escape  from  his  gloomy  abode  and  meditating  upon  the  life 
of  pleasure  that  awaited  him,  when  the  discordant  twang  of 
some  savage  music  broke  upon  his  ear,  and  roused  him  from 
his  reverie.  The  wild  scream  and  fitful  burst  of  a Plighland 
pibroch  is  certainly  not  the  most  likely  thing  in  nature  to 
allay  the  irritable  and  ruffled  feelings  of  an  irascible  person 
— unless,  perhaps,  the  hearer  eschew  breeches.  So  thought 
the  vicomte.  He  started  hurriedly  up,  and  straight  before 
him,  upon  the  gravel-walk,  beheld  the  stalwart  figure  and 
bony  frame  of  an  old  Highlander,  blowing  with  all  his  lungs 
the  “ Gathering  of  the  Clans.”  With  all  the  speed  he  could 
muster,  he  rushed  into  the  house,  and,  calling  his  servants, 
ordered  them  to  expel  the  intruder,  and  drive  him  at  once 
outside  the  demesne.  When  the  mandate  was  made  known 
to  the  old  piper,  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  he  could  be 
brought  to  comprehend  it — for,  time  out  of  mind,  his  approach 
had  been  hailed  with  every  demonstration  of  rejoicing  ; and 


BARRY  LORREQUER . 


38$ 

- — but  no  ; the  thing  was  impossible — there  must  be  a mis- 
take somewhere.  He  was  accordingly  about  to  recommence, 
when  a second  and  stronger  hint  suggested  to  him  that  it 
were  safer  to  depart.  “ Maybe  the  4 carl  ’ did  na  like  the 
pipes,”  said  the  Highlander  musingly,  as  he  packed  them 
up  for  his  march.  44  Maybe  he  did  na  like  me ; perhaps,  too, 
he  was  na  in  the  good  humor  of  music.”  He  paused  for  an 
instant  as  if  reflecting — not  satisfied,  probably,  that  he  had 
hit  upon  the  true  solution — when  suddenly  his  eye  brightened, 
his  lip  curled,  and,  fixing  a look  upon  the  angry  Frenchman,  he 
said — 44  Maybe  ye  are  right  enow — ye  heard  them  ower  muckle 
at  Waterloo  to  like  the  skirl  o'  them  ever  since  ; ” with  which 
satisfactory  explanation,  made  in  no  spirit  of  bitterness  or 
raillery,  but  in  the  simple  belief  that  he  had  at  la$t  hit  the 
mark  of  the  vicomte’s  antipathy,  the  old  man  gathered  up  his 
plaid  and  departed. 

However  disposed  I might  have  felt  toward  sleep,  the  little 
German  resolved  I should  not  obtain  any,  for  when  for  half 
an  hour  together  I would  preserve  a rigid  silence,  he,  nowise 
daunted,  had  recourse  to  some  German  44  lied,”  which  he 
gave  forth  with  an  energy  of  voice  and  manner  that  must 
have  aroused  every  sleeper  in  the  diligence  ; so  that,  fain  to 
avoid  this,  I did  my  best  to  keep  him  on  the  subject  of  his 
adventures,  which,  as  a man  of  successful  gallantry,  were 
manifold  indeed.  Wearying  at  last,  even  of  this  subordinate 
part,  I fell  into  a kind  of  half-doze.  The  words  of  a student 
song  he  continued  to  sing  without  ceasing  for  above  an  hour 
• — being  the  last  waking  thought  on  my  memory. 

Less  as  a souvenir  of  the  singer  than  a specimen  of  its 
class,  I give  here  a rough  translation  of  the  well-known 
Biirschen  melody  called 

THE  POPE. 

. 1. 

The  Pope  he  leads  a happy  life, 

He  fears  not  married  care  nor  strife, 

He  drinks  the  best  of  Rhenish  wine — 

I would  the  Pope’s  gay  lot  were  mine. 

CHORUS. 

He  drinks  the  best  of  Rhenish  wine — 

I would  the  Pope’s  gay  lot  were  mine. 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


386 

11. 

But  then  all  happy’s  not  his  life, 

He  has  not  maid  nor  blooming  wife. 

Nor  child  has  he  to  raise  his  hope— 

I would  not  wish  to  be  the  Pope. 

in. 

The  Sultan  better  pleases  me, 

His  is  a life  of  jollity ; 

His  wives  are  many  as  his  will — 

I would  the  Sultan’s  throne  then  fill. 

IV. 

But  even  he’s  a wretched  man, 

He  must  obey  his  Alcoran ; 

And  dares  not  drink  one  drop  of  wine~~~ 
I would  not  change  his  lot  for  mine. 

V. 

So,  then,  I’ll  hold  my  lowly  stand, 

And  live  in  German  Vaterland  ; 

I’ll  kiss  my  maiden  fair  and  fine, 

And  drink  the  best  of  Rhenish  wine. 

VI. 

Whene’er  my  maiden  kisses  me, 

I’ll  think  that  I the  Sultan  be  ; 

And  when  my  cheery  glass  I tope 
I’ll  fancy  then  I am  the  Pope. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


THE  JOURNEY. 

It  was  with  a feeling  of  pleasure  I cannot  explain  that  I 
awoke  in  the  morning  and  found  myself  upon  the  road.  The 
turmoil,  the  bustle,  the  never-ending  difficulties  of  my  late 
life  in  Paris  had  so  over-excited  and  worried  me  that  I 
could  neither  think  nor  reflect.  Now  all  these  cares  and 
troubles  were  behind  me,  and  I felt  like  a liberated  prisoner 
as  I looked  upon  the  gray  dawn  of  the  coming  day,  as  it 
gradually  melted  from  its  dull  and  leaden  tint  to  the  pink 
and  yellow  hue  of  the  rising  sun.  The  broad  and  richly- 
colored  plains  of  “ la  belle  France  ” were  before  me — and  it  is 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


3S7 

iC  la  belle  France,”  however  inferior  to  parts  of  England  in 
rural  beauty — the  large  tracts  of  waving  yellow  corn,  undulat- 
ing like  a sea  in  the  morning  breeze — the  interminable 
reaches  of  forest,  upon  which  the  shadows  played  and  flitted, 
deepening  the  effect  and  mellowing  the  mass,  as  we  see 
them  in  Ruysdael’s  pictures— while  now  and  then  some  tall- 
gabled,  antiquated  chateau,  with  its  mutilated  terrace  and 
dowager-like  air  of  by-gone  grandeur,  would  peep  forth  at  the 
end  of  some  long  avenue  of  lime  trees,  all  having  their  own 
features  of  beauty — and  a beauty  with  which  every  object 
around  harmonizes  well.  The  sluggish  peasant,  in  his  blouse 
and  striped  night-cap — the  heavily  caparisoned  horse,  shak- 
ing his  head  amidst  a Babel-tower  of  gaudy  worsted  tassels 
and  brass  bells — the  deeply  laden  wagon,  creeping  slowly 
along — are  all  in  keeping  with  a scene,  where  the  very 
mist  that  rises  from  the  valley  seems  indolent  and  lazy, 
and  unwilling  to  impart  the  rich  perfume  of  verdure  with 
which  it  is  loaded.  Every  land  has  its  own  peculiar 
character  of  beauty/  The  glaciered  mountain,  the  Alpine 
peak,  the  dashing  cataract  of  Switzerland  and  the  Tyrol,  are 
not  finer  in  their  way  than  the  long  flat  moorlands  of  a 
Flemish  landscape,  with  its  clump  of  stunted  willows  cluster- 
ing over  some  limpid  brook,  in  which  the  oxen  are  standing 
for  shelter  from  theNaoon-day  heat — wrhile  lower  down,  some 
rude  water-wheel  is  mingling  its  sounds  with  the  summer 
bees  and  the  merry  voices  of  the  miller  and  his  companions. 
So  strayed  my. thoughts  as  the  German  shook  me  by  the 
arm,  and  asked  if  “ I were  not  ready  for  my  breakfast  ? ” 
Luckily,  to  this  question  there  is  rarely  but  the  one  answer. 
Who  is  not  ready  for  his  breakfast  when  on  the  road  ? How 
delightful,  if  on  the  Continent,  to  escape  from  the  narrow 
limits  of  the  dungeon-like  diligence,  where  you  sit  with  your 
knees  next  your  collar-bone,  fainting  with  heat  and  suffocated 
by  dust,  and  find  yourself  suddenly  beside  the  tempting 
plats  of  a little  French  dejeuner , with  its  cutlets,  its  fried 
fish,  its  poulet,  its  salad,  and  its  little  entree  of  fruit,  tempered 
with  a not  despicable  bottle  of  Beaume.  If  in  England,  the 
exchange  is  nearly  as  grateful — for  though  our  travelling  be 
better,  and  our  equipages  less  genante , still  it  is  no  small 
alternative  from  the  stage-coach  to  the  inn- parlor,  redolent  of 
aromatic  black  tea,  eggs,  and  hot  toast,  with  a hospitable 
sideboard  of  red,  raw  sirloins  and  York  hams,  that  would 
make  a Jew's  mouth  water.  While  in  America  the  change 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


388 

is  greatest  of  all,  as  any  one  can  vouch  for  who  has  been 
suddenly  emancipated  from  the  stove-heat  of  a “ nine  inside  ” 
leathern  “ conveniency,”  bumping  ten  miles  an  hour  over  a 
corduroy  road,  the  company  smoking,  if  not  worse  ; to  the 
ample  display  of  luxurious  viands  displayed  upon  the  break* 
fast  table,  where,  with  buffalo  steaks,  pumpkin  pie,  gin  cock- 
tail, and  other  aristocratically  called  temptations,  he  must 
be  indeed  fastidious  who  cannot  employ  his  half  hour.  Pity 
it  is,  when  there  is  so  much  good  to  eat  that  people  will  not 
partake  of  it  like  civilized  beings,  and  with  that  air  of  cheer- 
ful thankfulness  that  all  other  nations  more  or  less  express 
when  enjoying  the  earth’s  bounties.  But  true  it  is,  that  there 
is  a spirit  of  discontent  in  the  Yankee  that  seems  to  accept  of 
benefits  with  a tone  of  dissatisfaction,  if  not  distrust.  I once 
made  this  remark  to  an  excellent  friend  of  mine,  now  no  more, 
who,  however,  would  not  permit  of  my  attributing  this  feature 
to  the  Americans  exclusively,  adding,  “ Where  have  you  more 
of  this  than  in  Ireland  ? and  surely  you  would  not  call  the  Irish 
ungrateful  ? ” He  illustrated  his  first  remark  by  the  follow- 
ing short  anecdote  : 

The  rector  of  the  parish  my  friend  lived  in  was  a man 
who  added  to  the  income  he  derived  from  his  living  a very 
handsome  private  fortune,  which  he  devoted  entirely  to  the 
benefit  of  the  poor  around  him.  Among  the  objects  of  his 
bounty,  one  old  woman,  as  childless  widow,  was  remarkably 
distinguished.  Whether  commiserating  her  utter  helpless- 
ness or  her  complete  isolation,  he  went  further  to  relieve  her 
than  to  many,  if  not  all,  the  other  poor.  She  frequently 
was  in  the  habit  of  pleading  her  poverty  as  a reason  for  not 
appearing  in  church  among  her  neighbors ; and  he  gladly 
seized  an  opportunity  of  so  improving  her  condition,  that 
on  this  score  at  least  no  impediment  existed.  When  all  his 
little  plans  for  her  comfort  had  been  carried  into  execution, 
he  took  the  opportunity  one  day  of  dropping  in,  as  if  acci- 
dentally, to  speak  to  her.  By  degrees  he  led  to  the  subject 
of  her  changed  condition  in  life — the  alteration  from  a cold, 
damp,  smoky  hovel  to  a warm,  clean,  slated  house — the 
cheerful  garden  before  the  door,  that  replaced  the  mud-heap 
and  the  duck-pool — and  all  the  other  happy  changes  which 
a few  weeks  had  effected.  And  he  then  asked,  did  she  not 
feel  grateful  to  a bountiful  Providence  that  had  showered 
down  so  many  blessings  upon  her  head  ? 

Ah,  troth,  it’s  thrue  for  yer  honor,  J am  grateful,”  sh§ 


HARR Y L ORREQUER . 389 

replied,  in  a whining,  discordant  tone,  which  astonished  the 
worthy  parson. 

“ Of  course  you  are,  my  good  woman,  of  course  you  are 
— but  I mean  to  say — don’t  you  feel  that  every  moment  you 
live  is  too  short  to  express  your  thankfulness  to  this  kind 
Providence  for  what  he  has  done  ? ” 

“ Ah,  darlin’,  it’s  all  thrue,  he’s  very  good,  he’s  mighty 
kind,  so  he  is.” 

“ Why,  then,  not  acknowledge  it  in  a different  manner  ? ” 
said  the  parson,  with  some  heat — “ has  he  not  housed  you, 
and  fed  you,  and  clothed  you  ? ” 

“ Yes,  alanah,  he  done  it  all.” 

“ Well,  where  is  your  gratitude  for  all  these  mercies  ? ” 

“ Ah,  sure  if  he  did,”  said  the  old  crone,  roused  at  length 
by  the  importunity  of  the  questioner — “ sure  if  he  did,  doesn't 
he  take  it  out  of  me  in  the  corns  ? ” 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

A REMINISCENCE  OF  THE  EAST. 

The  breakfast-table  assembled  around  it  the  three  gen- 
erations of  men  who  issued  from  the  three  subdivisions  of 
the  diligence,  and  presented  that  motley  and  mixed  assem- 
blage of  ranks,  ages,  and  countries,  which  forms  so  very 
amusing  a part  of  a traveller’s  experience. 

First  came  the  “haute  aristocratie ” of  the  coupe,  then 
the  middle  class  of  the  interieure,  and  lastly,  the  tiers  etat 
of  the  rotonde,  with  its  melange  of  Jew  money-lenders, 
under-officers  and  their  wives,  a Norman  nurse  with  a high 
cap  and  a red  jupe  ; while,  to  close  the  procession,  a Ger- 
man student  descended  from  the  roof,  with  a beard,  a blouse, 
and  a meerschaum.  Of  such  materials  was  our  party 
made  up  ; and  yet,  differing  in  all  our  objects  and  interests, 
we  speedily  amalgamated  into  a very  social  state  of  intimacy, 
and  chatted  away  over  our  breakfast  with  much  good  humor 
and  gayety,  each  person  of  the  number  seeming  pleased 
at  the  momentary  opportunity  of  finding  a new  listener,  save 
my  tall  companion  of  the  coupe.  Pie  preserved  a dogged 
fsilence?  unbroken  by  even  a chance  expression  to  the  waiter* 


390 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


who  observed  his  wants,  and  supplied  them  by  a species  of 
quick  instinct,  evidently  acquired  by  practice.  As  I could 
not  help  feeling  somewhat  interested  about  the  hermit-like 
attachment  he  evinced  for  solitude,  I watched  him  narrowly 
for  some  time,  and  at  length,  as  the  roti  made  its  appear- 
ance before  him,  after  he  had  helped  himself  and  tasted  it, 
he  caught  my  eye  fixed  upon  him,  and  looking  at  me  intently 
for  a few  seconds,  he  seemed  to  be  satisfied  in  some  passing 
doubt  he  labored  under,  as  he  said,  with  a most  peculiar 
shake  of  the  head,  “ No  mangez,  no  mangez,  cela.” 

“ Ah,”  said  I,  detecting  in  my  friend’s  French  his  English 
origin,  “you  are  an  Englishman,  I find.” 

“ The  devil  a doubt  of  it,  darlin’,  ” said  he,  half  testily. 

“ An  Irishman,  too — still  better,”  said  I. 

“ Why,  then,  isn’t  it  strange  that  my  French  always  shows 
me  to  be  English,  and  my  English  proves  me  Irish  ? It’s 
lucky  for  me  there’s  no  going  further,  anyhow.” 

Delighted  to  have  thus  fallen  upon  a “ character,”  as  the 
Irishman  evidently  appeared,  I moved  my  chair  toward  his  ; 
and  finding,  however,  he  was  not  half  pleased  at  the  manner 
in  which  my  acquaintance  had  been  made  with  him,  and 
knowing  his  country’s  susceptibility  of  being  taken  by  a 
story,  I resolved  to  make  my  advances  by  narrating  a cir- 
cumstance which  had  once  befallen  me  in  my  early  life. 

Our  countrymen,  English  and  Irish,  travel  so  much  now* 
adays,  that  one  ought  never  to  feel  surprised  at  finding  them 
anywhere.  The  instance  I am  about  to  relate  will  verify,  to 
a certain  extent,  the  fact,  by  showing  that  no  situation  is  too 
odd  or  too  unlikely  to  be  within  the  verge  of  calculation. 

When  the  ioth  Foot,  to  which  I then  belonged,  were  at 
Corfu,  I obtained,  with  three  other  officers,  a short  leave  of 
absence,  to  make  a hurried  tour  of  the  Morea,  and  take  a 
passing  glance  at  Constantinople — in  those  days  much  less 
frequently  visited  by  travellers  than  at  present. 

After  rambling  pleasantly  about  for  some  weeks,  we  were 
about  to  return,  when  we  determined  that  before  sailing  we 
should  accept  an  invitation  some  officers  of  the  “ Dwarf  ” 
frigate,  then  stationed  there,  had  given  us,  to  pass  a day  at 
Pera,  and  picnic  in  the  mountain. 

One  fine,  bright  morning  was  therefore  selected — a most 
appetizing  little  dinner  being  carefully  packed  up — we  set  out, 
a party  of  fourteen,  upon  our  excursion. 

The  weather  was  glorious  and  the  scene  far  finer  than  any 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


391 


of  us  had  anticipated — the  view  from  the  mountain  extending 
over  the  entire  city,  gorgeous  in  the  rich  coloring  of  its  domes 
and  minarets  ; while,  at  one  side,  the  Golden  Horn  was  visible, 
crowded  with  ships  of  every  nation,  and,  at  the  other,  a 
glimpse  might  be  had  of  tne  Sea  of  Marmora,  blue  and 
tranquil  as  it  lay  beneath.  The  broad  bosom  of  the  Bos- 
phorus was  sheeted  out  like  a map  before  us — peaceful,  yet 
bustling  with  life  and  animation.  Here  lay  the  union-jack 
of  old.  England,  floating  beside  the  lilies  of  France — we  speak 
of  times  when  lilies  were  and  barricades  were  not — the  tall 
and  taper  spars  of  a Yankee  frigate  towering  above  the  low 
timbers  and  heavy  hull  of  a Dutch  schooner — the  gilded  poop 
and  curved  galleries  of  a Turkish  three-decker,  anchored 
beside  the  raking  mast  and  curved  deck  of  a suspicious-look- 
ing craft,  whose  red-capped  and  dark-visaged  crew  needed 
not  the  naked  creese  at  their  sides  to  bespeak  them  Malays. 
The  whole  was  redolent  of  life,  and  teeming  with  food  for 
one’s  fancy  to  conjure  from. 

While  we  were  debating  upon  the  choice  of  a spot  for  our 
luncheon,  which  should  command  the  chief  points  of  view 
within  our  reach,  one  of  the  party  came  to  inform  us  that  he 
had  just  discovered  the  very  thing  we  were  in  search  of.  It 
was  a small  kiosk,,  built  upon  a projecting  rock  that  looked 
down  upon  the  Bosphorus  and  the  city,  and  had  evidently, 
from  the  extended  views  it  presented,  been  selected  as  the 
spot  to  build  upon.  The  building  itself  was  a small  octagon, 
open  on  every  side,  and  presenting  a series  of  prospects, 
land  and  seaward,  of  the  most  varied  and  magnificent  kind. 

Seeing  no  one  near,  nor  any  trace  of  habitation,  we  resolved 
to  avail  ourselves  of  the  good  taste  of  the  founder;  and 
speading  out  the  contents  of  our  hampers,  proceeded  to 
discuss  a most  excellent  cold  dinner.  When  the  good  things 
had  disappeared,  and  the  wine  began  to  circulate,  one  of  the 
party  observed  that  we  should  not  think  of  enjoying  ourselves 
before  we  had  filled  a bumper  to  the  brim,  to  the  health  of 
our  good  king,  whose  birthday  it  chanced  to  be.  Our 
homeward  thoughts  and  loyalty  uniting,  we  filled  our  glasses, 
and  gave  so  hearty  a “hip,  hip,  hurrah,”  to  our  toast,  that  I 
doubt  if  the  echoes  of  those  old  rocks  ever  heard  the  equal 
of  it. 

Scarcely  was  the  last  cheer  dying  away  in  the  distance,  when 
the  door  of  the  kiosk  opened,  and  a negro,  dressed  in  white 
muslin,  appeared,  his  arms  and  ankles  bearing  those  huge 


392 


JTARRV  LORREQtlER. 


rings  of  massive  gold  which  only  persons  of  rank  distinguish 
their  servants  by. 

After  a most  profound  obeisance  to  the  party  he  explained, 
in  very  tolerable  French,  that  his  master,  the  Effendi,  Ben 
Mustapha  A1  Halak,  at  whose  charge  (in  house  rent)  we  were 
then  feasting,  sent  us  greeting,  and  begged  that,  if  not  con- 
sidered as  contrary  to  our  usages,  etc.,  we  should  permit  him 
and  his  suite  to  approach  the  kiosk  and  observe  us  at  our 
meal. 

Independent  of  his  politeness  in  the  mode  of  conveying 
the  request,  as  he  would  prove  fully  as  entertaining  a sight 
to  us  as  we  could  possibly  be  to  him,  we  immediately  ex- 
pressed our  great  willingness  to  receive  his  visit,  coupled 
with  a half  hint  that  perhaps  he  might  honor  us  by  joining 
the  party. 

After  a half  hour’s  delay,  the  door  was  once  more  thrown 
open,  and  a venerable  old  Turk  entered  ; he  salaamed  three 
times  most  reverently,  and  motioned  to  us  to  be  seated,  declin- 
ing at  the  same  time,  by  a gentle  gesture  of  his  hand,  our 
invitation.  He  was  followed  by  a train  of  six  persons,  all 
splendidly  attired,  and  attesting,  by  their  costume  and  man- 
ner, the  rank  and  importance  of  their  chief.  Conceiving 
that  his  visit  had  but  one  object — to  observe  our  convivial 
customs — we  immediately  reseated  ourselves,  and  filled  our 
glasses. 

As  one  after  another  of  the  officers  of  the  effendi’s  house- 
hold passed  round  the  apartments,  we  offered  them  a goblet 
of  champagne,  which  they  severally  declined,  with  a polite 
but  solemn  smile — all  except  one,  a large,  savage-looking 
Turk,  with  a most  ferocious  scowl,  and  the  largest  black 
beard  I ever  beheld.  He  did  not  content  himself  with  a 
mute  refusal  of  our  offer,  but,  stopping  suddenly,  he  raised 
up  his  hands  above  his  head,  and  muttered  some  words  in 
Turkish,  which  one  of  the  party  informed  us  was  a very 
satisfactory  recommendation  of  the  whole  company  to  Satan 
for  their  heretic  abomination. 

The  procession  moved  slowly  round  the  room,  and  when 
it  reached  the  door  again  retired,  each  member  of  it  salaaming 
three  times  as  they  had  done  on  entering.  Scarcely  had 
they  gone,  when  we  burst  into  a loud  fit  of  laughter  at  the 
savage-looking  fellow  who  thought  proper  to  excommunicate 
us,  and  were  about  to  discuss  his  more  than  common  appear- 
ance of  disgust  at  our  proceedings,  when  again  the  door 


HARR  Y LORREQt/ER. 


393 

opened,  and  a turbaned  head  peeped  in,  but  so  altered  were  the 
features,  that  although  seen  but  the  moment  before,  we  could 
hardly  believe  them  the  same.  The  dark  complexion — the 
long  and  bushy  beard  were  there — but  instead  of  the  sleepy 
and  solemn  character  of  the  oriental,  with  heavy  eye  and 
closed  lip,  there  was  a droll,  half  devilry  in  the  look,  and 
partly-opened  mouth,  that  made  a most  laughable  contrast 
with  the  head-dress.  He  looked  stealthily  around  him  for 
an  instant,  as  if  to  see  that  all  was  right,  and  then,  with  an 
accent  and  expression  I shall  never  forget,  said,  “ Fll  taste 
your  wine , gentlemen , av  it  be  pleasing  to  yeF 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A DAY  IN  THE  PHOENIX. 

When  we  were  once  more  in  the  coupe  of  the  diligence,  I 
directed  my  entire  attention  toward  my  Irish  acquaintance, 
as  well  because  of  his  apparent  singularity,  as  to  avoid  the 
little  German  in  the  opposite  corner. 

“You  have  not  been  long  in  France,  then,  sir  ? ” said  I,  as 
we  resumed  our  conversation. 

“ Three  weeks,  and  it  seems  like  three  years  to  me — noth- 
ing to  eat — nothing  to  drink — and  nobody  to  speak  to.  But 
I’ll  go  back  soon — I only  came  abroad  for  a month.” 

“ You’ll  scarcely  see  much  of  the  Continent  in  so  short  a 
time.” 

r “ Devil  a much  that  will  grieve  me — I didn’t  come  to  see 
it.” 

“ Indeed  ! ” 

“ Nothing  of  the  kind  ; 1 only  came  to  be  away  from  home.” 

“ Oh  ! I perceive.” 

“ You’re  quite  out  there,”  said  my  companion,  misinterpret- 
ing my  meaning.  “It  wasn’t  anything  of  that  kind.  I don’t 
owe  sixpence.  I was  laughed  out  of  Ireland — that’s  all, 
though  that  same  is  bad  enough.” 

“ Laughed  out  of  it ! ” 

“Just  so — and  little  do  you  know  of  Ireland  if  that  sur- 
prises you.” 

After  acknowledging  that  such  an  event  was  perfectly  pos- 
sible, from  what  I myself  had  seen  of  that  country,  I obtained 


394  HARRY  LORREQUER. 

the  following  very  brief  account  of  my  companions  reasons 
for  foreign  travel. 

“Well,  sir,”  began  he,  “ it  is  about  four  months  since  I 
brought  up  to  Dublin  from  Galway  a little  chestnut  mare, 
with  cropped  ears,  and  a short  tail,  square-jointed,  and  rather 
low — just  what  you’d  call  a smart  hack  for  going  to  cover 
with — a lively  thing  on  the  road  with  a light  weight.  Nobody 
ever  suspected  that  she  was  a clean-bred  thing — own  sister 
to  Jenny,  that  won  the  Corinthians,  and  ran  second  to  Giles 
for  the  Riddlesworth — but  so  she  was,  and  a better  bred  mare 
never  leaped  the  pound  in  Ballinasloe.  Well,  I brought  her 
to  Dublin,  and  used  to  ride  her  out  two  or  three  times  a week, 
making  little  matches,  sometimes  to  trot — and,  for  a thorough- 
bred, she  was  a clipper  at  trotting — to  trot  a mile  or  so  on 
the  grass — another  day  to  gallop  the  length  of  the  nine  acres 
opposite  the  lodge — &nd  then  sometimes  back  her  for  a ten- 
pound  note,  to  jump  the  biggest  furze  bush  that  could  be 
found — all  of  which  she  could  do  with  ease,  nobody  thinking 
all  the  while  that  the  cock-tailed  pony  was  out  of  Scroggins, 
by  a ‘ Lamplighter  mare/  As  every  fellow  that  was  beat  to- 
day was  sure  to  come  back  to-morrow,  with  something  better, 
either  of  his  own  or  a friend’s,  I had  matches  booked  for 
every  day  in  the  week — for  I always  made  my  little  boy  that 
rode  win  by  half  a neck  or  a nostril,  and  so  we  kept  on 
day  after  day  pocketing  from  ten  to  thirty  pounds,  or  there- 
abouts. 

“ It  was  mighty  pleasant  while  it  lasted,  for  besides  win- 
ning the  money,  I had  my  own  fun  laughing  at  the  spoonies 
that  never  could  book  my  bets  fast  enough.  Young  infantry 
officers  and  the  junior  bar — they  were  for  the  most  part  mighty 
nice  to  look  at,  but  very  raw  about  racing.  How  long  I might 
have  gone  on  in  this  way  I cannot  say ; but  one  morning  I 
fell  in  with  a fat  elderly  gentleman,  in  shorts  and  gaiters, 
mounted  on  a dun  cob  pony,  that  was  very  fidgety  and  hot- 
tempered  and  appeared  to  give  the  rider  a great  deal  of  un- 
easiness. 

“ ‘ He’s  a spicy  hack  you’re  on,  sir,’  said  I,  4 and  has  a go 
in  him,  I’ll  be  bound.’ 

“ ‘ I rayther  think  he  has,’  said  the  old  gentleman,  half 
testily. 

“ 1 And  can  trot  a bit,  too  ? ’ 

“ 6 Twelve  Irish  miles  in  fifty  minutes,  with  my  weight/ 
Here  he  looked  down  at  a paunch  like  a sugar  hogshead. 


HARR  Y LORREQUER.  395 

“ * Maybe  he’s  not  bad  across  a country,’  said  I,  rather  to 
humor  the  old  fellow,  who,  I saw,  was  proud  of  his  pony. 

‘“I’d  like  to  see  his  match,  that’s  all.’  Here  he  gave  a 
rather  contemptuous  glance  at  my  hack. 

“ Well,  one  word  led  to  another,  and  it  ended  at  last  in  our 
booking  a match,  with  which  one  party  was  no  less  pleased 
than  the  other.  It  was  this  : each  was  to  ride  his  own  horse, 
starting  from  the  school  in  the  Park  round  the  Fifteen  Acres, 
outside  the  Monument,  and  back  to  the  start — just  one  heat, 
about  a mile  and  a half — the  ground  good,  and  only  soft 
enough.  In  consideration,  however,  of  his  greater  weight,  I 
was  to  give  odds  in  the  start ; and  as  we  could  not  well  agree 
on  how  much,  it  was  at  length  decided  that  he  was  to  get 
away  first,  and  I to  follow  as  fast  as  I could,  after  drinking 
a pewter  quart  full  of  Guinness’s  double  stout — droll  odds, 
you’ll  say,  but  it  was  the  old  fellow’s  own  thought,  and  as  the 
match  was  a soft  one,  I let  him  have  his  way. 

“ The  next  morning  the  Phoenix  was  crowded  as  if  for  a 
review.  There  were  all  the  Dublin  notorieties  swarming  in 
barouches,  and  tilburies,  and  outside  jaunting-cars — smajt 
clerks  in  the  post-office,  mounted  upon  kicking  devils  from 
Dycer’s  and  Lalouette’s  stables — attorneys’  wives  and  daugh- 
ters from  York  Street,  and  a stray  doctor  or  so  on  a hack  that 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  lectured  on  for  the  six  winter  months 
at  the  College  of  Surgeons.  My  antagonist  was  half  an  hour 
late,  which  time  I occupied  in  booking  bets  on  every  side  of 
me,  offering  odds  of  ten,  fifteen,  and  at  last,  to  tempt  the 
people,  twenty-five  to  one  against  the  dun.  At  last  the  fat 
gentleman  came  up  on  a jaunting-car,  followed  by  a groom 
leading  the  cob.  I wish  you  heard  the  cheer  that  greeted 
him  on  his  arrival,  for  it  appeared  he  was  a well-known  char- 
acter in  town,  and  much  in  favor  with  the  mob.  When  he  got 
off  the  car,  he  bundled  into  a tent,  followed  by  a few  of  his 
friends,  where  they  remained  for  about  five  minutes,  at  the 
end  of  which  he  came  out  in  full  racing  costume — blue  and 
yellow  striped  jacket,  blue  cap  and  leathers — looking  as  funny 
a figure  as  ever  you  set  eyes  upon.  I now  thought  it  time  to 
throw  off  my  white  surtout,  and  show  out  in  pink  and  orange, 
the  colors  I had  been  winning  in  for  two  months  past.  While 
some  of  the  party  were  sent  on  to  station  themselves' at  differ- 
ent places  round  the  Fifteen  Acres,  to  mark  out  the  course, 
my  fat  friend  was  assisted  into  his  saddle,  and  gave  a short 
preliminary  gallop  of  a hundred  yards  or  so,  that  set  us  all 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


396 

a-kiughing.  The  odds  were  now  fifty  to  one  in  my  favor,  and 
1 gave  them  wherever  I could  find  takers.  4 With  you,  sir, 
if  you  please,  in  pounds,  and  the  gentleman  in  the  red  whis- 
kers, too,  if  he  likes  ; very  well,  in  half  sovereigns,  if  you 
prefer  it/  So  I went  on,  betting  on  every  side,  till  the  bell 
rung  to  mount.  As  I knew  I had  plenty  of  time  to  spare,  I 
took  little  notice,  and  merely  giving  a look  to  my  girths,  I 
continued  leisurely  booking  my  bets.  At  last  the  time  came, 
and  at  the  word  4 Away  ! ’ off  went  the  fat  gentleman  on  the 
dun,  at  a splintering  gallop,  that  flung  the  mud  on  every  side 
of  us,  and  once  more  threw  us  all  a-laughing.  I waited  pa- 
tiently till  he  got  near  the  upper  end  of  the  Park,  taking  bets 
every  minute ; and  now  that  he  was  away,  every  one  offered 
to  wager.  At  last,  when  I had  let  him  get  nearly  half  round 
and  found  no  more  money  could  be  had,  I called  out  to  his 
friends  for  the  porter,  and,  throwing  myself  into  the  saddle, 
gathered  up  the  reins  in  my  hand.  The  crowd  fell  back  on 
each  side,  while  from  the  tent  I have  already  mentioned  out 
came  a thin  fellow  with  one  eye,  with  a pewter  quart  in  his 
hand  ; he  lifted  it  up  toward  me,  and  I took  it ; but  what  was 
my  fright  to  find  that  the  porter  was  boiling,  and  the  vessel 
so  hot  I could  barely  hold  it.  I endeavored  to  drink,  how- 
ever. The  first  mouthful  took  all  the  skin  off  my  lips  and 
tongue,  the  second  half  choked,  and  the  third  nearly  threw 
me  into  an  apoplectic  fit — the  mob  cheering  all  the  time  like 
devils.  Meantime,  the  old  fellow  had  reached  the  furze,  and 
was  going  along  like  fun.  Again  I tried  the  porter,  and  a fit 
of  coughing  came  on  that  lasted  five  minutes.  The  pewter  ] 
was  now  so  hot  that  the  edge  of  the  quart  took  away  a piece 
of  my  mouth  at  every  effort.  I ventured  once  more,  and  with 
the  desperation  of  a madman  I threw  down  the  hot  liquid  to  : 
its  last  drop.  My  head  reeled — my  eyes  glared — and  my  j 
brain  was  on  fire.  I thought  I beheld  fifty- fat  gentlemen 
galloping  on  every  side  of  me,  and  all  the  sky  raining  jackets  | 
in  blue  and  yellow.  Half  mechanically  I took  the  reins,  j 
and  put  spurs  to  my  horse  ; but  before  I got  well  away,  ] 
a loud  cheer  from  the  crowd  assailed  me.  I turned,  and 
saw  the  dun  coming  in  at  a floundering  gallop,  covered 
with  foam,  and  so  dead  blown  that  neither  himself  nor  the  I 
rider  could  have  got  twenty  yards  further.  The  race  was,  J 
however  won.  My  odds  were  lost  to  every  man  on  the  field  1 
and,  worse  than  all,  I was  so  laughed  at,  that  I could  not 
venture  out  in  the  streets  without  hearing  allusions  to  1 


JtiAkR  y L okkkQ  ukk. 


39? 

my  misfortunes ; for  a certain  friend  of  mine,  one  Tom 
O’Flaherty ” 

“ Tom  of  the  nth  Light  Dragoons  ? ” 

“The  same — you  know  Tom,  then?  Maybe  you  have 
heard  him  mention  me — Maurice  Malone  ? ” 

“ Not  Mr  Malone,  of  Fort  Peak  ? ” 

“ Bad  luck  to  him.  I am  as  well  known  in  connection  with 
Fort  Peak,  as  the  duke  is  with  Waterloo.  There  is  not  a 
part  of  the  globe  where  he  has  not  told  that  confounded 
story.” 

As  my  readers  may  not  possibly  be  all  numbered  in  Mr. 
O’Flaherty’s  acquaintance,  I shall  venture  to  give  the  anec- 
dote which  Mr.  Malone  accounted  to  be  so  widely  circulated. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

AN  ADVENTURE  IN  CANADA. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  last  war  with  America,  a small 
detachment  of  military  occupied  the  little  block-house  of 
Fort  Peak,  which,  about  eight  miles  from  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  formed  the  last  outpost  on  the  frontier.  The  Fort, 
in  itself  inconsiderable,  was  only  of  importance  as  command- 
ing a part  of  the  river  where  it  was  practicable  to  ford,  and 
where  the  easy  ascent  of  the  bank  offered  a safe  situation  for 
the  enemy  to  cross  over,  whenever  they  felt  disposed  to  carry 
the  war  into  our  territory. 

There  having  been,  however,  no  threat  of  invasion  in  this 
quarter,  and  the  natural  strength  of  the  position  being  con- 
siderable, a mere  handful  of  men,  with  two  subaltern  officers, 
were  allotted  for  this  duty — such  being  conceived  ample  to 
maintain  it  till  the  arrival  of  succor  from  headquarters,  then 
at  Little  York,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake.  The  officers 
of  this  party  were  our  old  acquaintance,  Tom  O’Flaherty,  and 
our  newly-made  one,  Maurice  Malone. 

Whatever  may  be  the  merits  of  commanding  officers,  one 
virtue  they  certainly  can  lay  small  claim  to — viz.,  any  insight 
into  character,  or  at  least  any  regard  for  the  knowledge. 
Seldom  are  two  men  sent  off  on  detachment  duty  to  some 
remote  quarter,  to  associate  daily  and  hourly  for  months 


HARRY LORREQUER. 


398 

together,  that  they  are  not,  by  some  happy  chance,  the  very 
people,  who  never,  as  the  phrase  is,  “ took  to  each  other  ” 
in  their  lives.  The  gray-headed,  weather-beaten,  disap- 
pointed “ Peninsular  ” is  coupled  with  the  essenced  and 
dandified  Adonis  of  the  corps;  the  man  of  literary  tastes 
and  cultivated  pursuits,  with  the  empty-headed,  ill-informed 
youth,  fresh  from  Harrow  or  Westminster.  This  case  offered 
no  exception  to  the  rule;  for  though  there  were  few  men 
possessed  of  more  assimilating  powers  than  O’Flaherty,  yet 
certainly  his  companion  did  put  the  faculty  to  the  test,  for 
anything  more  unlike  him  there  never  existed.  Tom  all 
good  humor  and  high  spirits — making  the  best  of  everything 
— never  nonplussed — never  taken  aback  ; perfectly  at  home 
whether  flirting  with  a Lady  Charlotte  in  her  drawing-room, 
or  crossing  a grouse  mountain  in  the  Highlands  ; sufficiently 
well  read  to  talk  on  any  ordinary  topic — and  always  ready- 
witted  enough  to  seem  more  so.  A thorough  sportsman, 
whether  showing  forth  in  the  “park”  at  Melton,  whipping 
a trout-stream  in  Wales,  or  filling  a country-house  with  black 
cock  and  moor-fowl,  an  unexceptionable  judge  of  all  the 
good  things  in  life,  from  a pretty  ankle  to  a well-hung  tilbury 
— from  the  odds  at  hazard  to  the  “ Comet  vintage.”  Such, 
in  brief,  was  Tom.  Now  his  confrere  was  none  of  these  ; he 
had  been  drafted  from  the  Galway  militia  to  the  line,  for 
some  election  services  rendered  by  his  family  to  the  govern- 
ment candidate ; was  of  a saturnine  and  discontented  habit ; 
always  miserable  about  some  trifle  or  other,  and  never  at 
rest  till  he  had  drowned  his  spirits  in  Jamaica  rum — which, 
since  the  regiment  was  abroad,  he  had  copiously  used  as  a 
substitute  for  whisky.  To  such  an  extent  had  this  passion 
gained  upon  him,  that  a corporal’s  guard  was  always  in 
attendance  whenever  he  dined  out,  to  convey  him  home  to 
the  barracks. 

The  wearisome  monotony  of  a close  garrison,  with  so  un- 
genial  a companion,  would  have  damped  any  man’s  spirits 
but  O’Flaherty’s.  He,  however,  upon  this,  as  other  oc- 
casions in  life,  rallied  himself  to  make  the  best  of  it ; and 
by  short  excurisons  within  certain  prescribed  limits  along 
the  river  side,  contrived  to  shoot  and  fish  enough  to  get 
through  the  day,  and  improve  the  meagre  fare  of  his  mess- 
table.  Malone  never  appeared  before  dinner — his  late  sit- 
tings at  night  requiring  all  the  following  day  to  recruit  hiro 
for  a new  attack  upon  the  rum-bottle. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


399 


Now,  although  his  seeing  so  little  of  his  brother  officer  was 
anything  but  unpleasant  to  O’Flaherty,  yet  the  ennui  of  such 
a life  was  gradually  wearing  him,  and  all  his  wits  were  put  in 
requisition  to  furnish  occupation  for  his  time.  Never  a day 
passed  without  his  praying  ardently  for  an  attack  from  the 
enemy ; any  alternative,  any  reverse,  had  been  a blessing 
compared  with  his  'present  life.  No  such  spirit,  however, 
seemed  to  animate  the  Yankee  troops ; not  a soldier  was  to 
be  seen  for  miles  around,  and  every  straggler  that  passed  the 
Fort  concurred  in  saying  that  the  Americans  were  not  within 
four  days’  march  of  the  frontier. 

Weeks  passed  pver,  and  the  same  state  of  things  remain- 
ing unchanged,  O’Flaherty  gradually  relaxed  some  of  his 
strictness  as  to  duty  ; small  foraging  parties  of  three  and  four 
being  daily  permitted  to  leave  the  Fort  a few  hours,  to  which 
they  usually  returned  laden  with  wild  turkeys  and  fish — both 
being  found  in  great  abundance  near  them. 

Such  was  the  life  of  the  little  garrison  for  two  or  three  long 
summer  months— each  day  so  resembling  its  fellow,  that  no 
difference  could  be  found. 

As  to  how  the  war  was  faring,  or  what  the  aspect  of  affairs 
might  be,  they  absolutely  knew  nothing.  Newspapers  never 
reached  them  ; and  whether  from  having  so  much  occupa- 
tion at  headquarters,  or  that  the  difficulty  of  sending  letters 
prevented,  their  friends  never  wrote  a line  ; and  thus  they 
jogged  on,  a very  vegetable  existence,  till  thought  at  last  was 
stagnating  in  their  brains,  and  O’Flaherty  half  envied  his 
companion’s  resource  in  the  spirit  flask. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  at  the  Fort,  when  one  evening 
O’Flaherty  appeared  to  pace  the  little  rampart  that  looked 
toward  Lake  Ontario,  with  an  appearance  of  anxiety  and  im- 
patience, strangely  at  variance  with  his  daily  phlegmatic 
look.  It  seemed  that  the  corporal’s  party  he  had  dispatched 
that  morning  to  forage,  near  the  “ Falls,”  had  not  returned, 
and  already  were  four  hours  later  than  their  time  away. 

Everfy  imaginable  mode  of  accounting  for  their  absence 
suggested  itself  to  his  mind.  Sometime  he  feared  that  they 
had  been  attacked  by  the  Indian  hunters,  who  were  far 
from  favorably  disposed  toward  their  poaching  neighbors. 
Then,  again,  it  might  be  merely  that  they  had  missed  their 
track  in  the  forest ; or  could  it  be  that  they  had  ventured  to 
reach  Goat  Island  in  a canoe,  and  had  been  carried  down 
the  rapids  ? Such  were  the  torturing  doubts  that  passed,  as 


400 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


some  shrill  squirrel  or  hoarse  night-owl  pierced  the  air  with 
a cry,  and  then  all  was  silent  again.  While  thus  the  hours 
went  slowly  by,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a bright  light 
in  the  sky.  It  appeared  as  if  a part  of  the  heavens  were 
reflecting  some  strong  glare  from  beneath  ; for  as  he  looked, 
the  light,  at  first  pale  and  colorless,  gradually  deepened  into  a 
rich  mellow  hue,  and  at  length,  through  the  murky  blackness 
of  the  flight,  a strong  clear  current  of  flame  rose  steadily 
upward  from  the  earth,  and  pointed  toward  the  sky.  From 
the  direction,  it  must  have  been  either  at  the  Falls,  or  imme- 
diately near  them  ; and  now  the  horrible  conviction  flashed 
upon  his  mind,  that  the  party  had  been  waylaid  by  the 
Indians,  who  were,  as  is  their  custom,  making  a war  feast 
over  their  victims. 

Not  an  instant  was  to  be  lost.  The  little  garrison  beat  to 
arms,  and  as  the  men  fell  in,  O 5 Flaherty  cast  his  eyes  around 
while  he  selected  a few  brave  fellows  to  accompany  him. 
Scarcely  had  the  men  fallen  out  from  the  ranks,  when  the 
sentinel  at  the  gates  was  challenged  by  a well-known  voice, 
and  in  a moment  more  the  corporal  of  the  foraging  party  was 
among  them.  Fatigue  and  exhaustion  had  so  overcome  him, 
that  for  some  minutes  he  was  speechless.  At  length  he  re- 
covered sufficiently  to  give  the  following  brief  account  : 

The  little  party  having  obtained  their  supply  of  venison 
above  Queenston,  were  returning  to  the  Fort,  when  they 
suddenly  came  upon  a track  of  feet,  and  little  experience 
in  forest  life  soon  proved  that  some  new  arrivals  had  reached 
the  hunting-grounds,  for  on  examining  them  closely,  they 
proved  neither  to  be  Indian  tracks,  nor  yet  those  made  by 
the  shoes  of  the  Fort  party.  Proceeding  with  caution  to 
trace  them  backward  for  three  or  four  miles,  they  reached  the 
bank  of  the  Niagara  River,  above  the  whirlpool,  where  the 
crossing  is  most  easily  effected  from  the  American  side.  The 
mystery  was  at  once  explained  ; it  was  a surprise  party  of 
the  Yankees,  sent  to  attack  Fort  Peak,  and  the  only  thing  to 
be  done  was  to  hasten  back  immediately  to  their  friends,  and 
prepare  for  their  reception. 

With  this  intent,  they  took  the  river  path  as  the  shortest, 
but  had  not  proceeded  far  when  their  fears  were  confirmed  ; 
for  in  a little  embayment  of  the  bank  they  perceived  a party 
of  twenty  blue-coats,  who,  with  their  arms  piled,  were  lying 
round,  as  if  waiting  for  the  hour  of  attack.  The  sight  of  this 
party  added  greatly  to  their  alarm,  for  they  now  perceived 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


401 


that  the  Americans  had  divided  their  force — the  foot-tracks 
first  seen  being  evidently  those  of  another  division.  As  the 
corporal  and  his  few  men  continued,  from  the  low  and  thick 
brushwood,  to  make  their  reconnaissance  of  the  enemy, 
they  observed  with  delight  that  they  were  not  regulars,  but  a 
militia  force.  With  this  one  animating  thought,  they  again, 
with  noiseless  step,  regained  the  forest,  and  proceeded  upon 
their  way.  Scarcely,  however,  had  they  marched  a mile,  when 
the  sound  of  voices  and  loud  laughter  apprised  them  that 
another  party  was  near,  which,  as  well  as  they  could  observe 
in  the  increasing  gloom,  was  still  larger  than  the  former. 
They  were  now  obliged  to  make  a considerable  circuit,  and 
advance  still  deeper  into  the  forest,  their  anxiety  hourly  in- 
creasing, lest  the  enemy  should  reach  the  Fort  before  them- 
selves. In  this  dilemma  it  was  resolved  that  the  party  should 
separate — the  corporal  determining  to  proceed  alone  by  the 
river  bank,  while  the  others,  by  a detour  of  some  miles,  should 
endeavor  to  learn  the  force  of  the  Yankees,  and,  as  far  as 
they  could,  their  mode  of  attack.  From  that  instant  the 
corporal  knew  no  more  ; for  after  two  hours’  weary  exertion 
he  reached  the  Fort,  which,  had  it  been  but  another  mile 
distant,  his  strength  had  not  held  out  for  him  to  attain. 

However  gladly  poor  O’Flaherty  might  have  hailed  such 
information  under  other  circumstances,  now  it  came  like  a 
thunderbolt  upon  him.  Six  of  his  small  force  were  away, 
perhaps  ere  this  made  prisoners  b^  the  enemy  ; the  Yankees, 
as  well  as  he  could  judge,  were  a numerous  party ; and  he 
himself  totally  without  a single  adviser — for  Malone  had 
dined,  and  was,  therefore,  by  this  time  in  that  pleasing  state 
of  indifference,  in  which  he  could  only  recognize  an  enemy 
in  the  man  that  did  not  send  round  the  decanter. 

In  the  half-indulged  hope  that  his  state  might  permit  some 
faint  exercise  of  the  reasoning  faculty,  O’Flaherty  walked 
toward  the  small  den  they  had  designated  as  the  mess-room, 
in  search  of  his  brother  officer. 

As  he  entered  the  apartment,  little  disposed  as  he  felt  to 
mirth  at  such  a moment,  the  tableau  before  him  was  too 
ridiculous  not  to  laugh  at.  At  one  side  of  the  fire-place  sat 
Malone,  his  face  florid  with  drinking,  and  his  eye-balls  pro- 
jecting. Upon  his  head  was  a small  Indian  .skull-cap,  with 
two  peacock  feathers,  and  a piece  of  scarlet  cloth  which 
hung  down  behind.  In  one  hand  he  held  a smoking  goblet  of 
rum  punch  and  in  the  other  a long  Indian  chibouk  pipe. 

26 


402 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


Opposite  to  him,  but  squatted  upon  the  floor,  reposed  a red 
Indian,  that  lived  in  the  Fort  as  a guide,  equally  drunk,  but 
preserving  even  in  his  liquor  an  impassive,  grave  aspect, 
strangely  contrasting  with  the  high  excitement  of  Malone’s 
face.  The  red  man  wore  Malone’s  uniform  coat,  which  he 
had  put  on  back  foremost — his  head-dress  having  in  all 
probability  been  exchanged  for  it,  as  an  amicable  courtesy 
between  the  parties.  There  they  sat,  looking  fixedly  at 
each  other  ; neither  spoke  nor  even  smiled — the  rum-bottle, 
which  at  brief  intervals  passed  from  one  to  the  other,  main- 
tained a friendly  intercourse  that  each  was  content  with. 

To  the  hearty  fit  of  laughing  of  O’Flaherty,  Malone  replied 
by  a look  of  drunken  defiance,  and  then  nodded  to  his  red 
friend,  who  returned  the  courtesy.  As  poor  Tom  left  the 
room,  he  saw  that  nothing  was  to  be  hoped  for  in  this  quarter, 
and  determined  to  beat  the  garrison  to  arms  without  any  fur- 
ther delay.  Scarcely  had  he  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
when  a sudden  thought  flashed  through  his  brain.  He  hesi- 
tated, walked  forward  a few  paces,  stopped  again,  and  call- 
ing out  to  the  corporal,  said  : 

“ You  are  certain  they  were  militia  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir;  quite  sure.” 

“ Then,  by  Jove,  I have  it,”  cried  O’Flaherty.  “ If  they 
should  turn  out  to  be  the  Buffalo  Fencibles,  we  may  get 
through  this  scrape  better  than  I hoped  for.” 

“ I believe  you  are  right,  sir ; for  I heard  one  of  the  men 
as  I passed  observe,  ‘ What  will  they  say  in  Buffalo  when  it’s 
over  ? ’ ” 

“Send  Mathers  here,  corporal;  and  do  you  order  four 
rank  and  file,  with  side-arms,  to  be  in  readiness  immediately.” 

“ Mathers,  you  have  heard  the  news,”  said  O’Flaherty,  as 
the  sergeant  entered.  “ Can  the  fort  hold  out  against  such 
a force  as  Jackson  reports  ? You  doubt ; well,  so  do  I ; so 
let’s  see  what’s  to  be  done.  Can  you  remember,  was  it  not 
the  Buffalo  militia  that  were  so  tremendously  thrashed  by 
the  Delawares  last  autumn  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir,  they  chased  them  for  two  days  and  nights,  and 
had  they  not  reached  the  town  of  Buffalo,  the  Delawares 
would  not  have  left  a scalp  in  the  regiment.” 

“ Can  you  recollect  the  chief’s  name — it  was  Carran— 
something,  eh  ? ” 

“ Caudan-dacwagea.  ” 

“ Exactly.  Where  is  he  supposed  to  be  now  ? ” 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER.  403 

“ Up  in  Detroit,  sir,  they  say,  but  no  one  knows.  Those 
fellows  are  here  to-day,  and  there  to-morrow.’, 

“Well,  then,  sergeant,  here’s  my  plan.”  Saying  these 
words,  O’Flaherty  proceeded  to  walk  toward  his  quarters, 
accompanied  by  the  'sergeant,  with  whom  he  conversed  for 
some  time  eagerly — occasionally  replying,  as  it  appeared,  to 
objections,  and  offering  explanations  as  the  other  seemed 
to  require  them.  The  colloquy  lasted  half  an  hour  ; and 
although  the  veteran  sergeant  seemed  difficult  of  conviction, 
it  ended  by  his  saying  as  he  left  the  room : 

“ Well,  sir,  as  you  say,  it  can  only  come  to  hard  knocks  at 
the  worst.  Here  goes — I’ll  send  off  the  scout  party  to  make 
the  fires  and  choose  the  men  for  the  out-pickets,  for  no  time 
is  to  be  lost.” 

In  about  an  hour’s  time  from  the  scene  I have  mentioned, 
a number  of  militia  officers,  of  different  grades,  were  seated 
round  a bivouac  fire,  upon  the  bank  of  the  Niagara  River. 
The  conversation  seemed  of  an  angry  nature,  for  the  voices 
of  the  speakers  were  loud  and  irascible,  and  their  gestures 
evidenced  a state  of  high  excitement. 

“ I see,”  said  one,  who  seemed  the  superior  of  the  party — 
“ I see  well  where  this  will  end.  We  shall  have  another 
Queen ston  affair,  as  we  had  last  fall  with  the  Delawares.” 

“ I only  say,”  replied  another,  “ that  if  you  wish  our  men 
to  stand  fire  in  the  morning,  the  less  you  remind  them  of  the 
Delawares  the  better.  What  is  that  noise?  Is  not  that  a 
drum  beating  ? ” 

The  party  at  these  words  sprung  to  their  legs,  and  stood 
in  an  attitude  of  listening  for  some  seconds. 

“ Who  goes  there  ? ” sung  out  a sentinel  from  his  post ; 
and  then,  after  a moment’s  delay,  added,  “ Pass  flag  of  truce 
to  Major  Brown’s  quarters.” 

Scarcely  were  the  words  spoken,  when  three  officers  in 
scarlet,  preceded  by  a drummer  with  a white  flag,  stood  be 
fore  the  American  party. 

“ To  whom  may  I address  myself  ? ” said  one  of  the  British 
< — who,  I may  inform  my  reader,  en  passant , was  no  other 
than  O’Flaherty.  “ To  whom  may  I address  myself  as  the 
officer  in  command  ? ” 

“ I am  Major  Brown,”  said  a short,  plethoric  little  man, 
in  a blue  uniform  and  round  hat.  “ And  who  are  you  ? ” 

“ Major  O’Flaherty,  of  his  majesty’s  5th  Foot,”  said  Tom, 
with  a very  sonorous  emphasis  on  each  word,  “ the  bearer 


404 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


of  a flag  of  truce  and  an  amicable  proposition  from  Major- 
General  Allen,  commanding  the  garrison  of  Fort  Peak.” 

The  Americans,  who  were  evidently  taken  by  surprise  at 
their  intentions  of  attack  being  known,  were  silent,  while 
he  continued  : 

“ Gentlemen,  it  may  appear  somewhat  strange  that  a gar- 
rison, possessing  the  natural  strength  of  a powerful  position, 
supplied  with  abundant  ammunition  and  every  muniment  of 
war,  should  dispatch  a flag  of  truce  on  the  eve  of  an  attack, 
in  preference  to  waiting  for  the  moment,  when  a sharp  and 
well-prepared  reception  might  best  attest  its  vigilance  and 
discipline.  But  the  reasons  for  this  step  are  soon  explained. 
In  the  first  place,  you  intend  a surprise.  We  have  been  long 
aware  of  your  projected  attack.  Our  spies  have  tracked 
you  from  your  crossing  the  river  above  the  whirlpool  to  your 
present  position.  Every  man  of  your  party  is  numbered  by 
us  ; and,  what  is  still  more,  numbered  by  our  allies — yes, 
gentlemen,  I must  repeat  it,  ‘ allies,’  though,  as  a Briton,  I 
blush  at  the  word.  Shame  and  disgrace  forever  be  that 
man’s  portion  who  first  associated  the  honorable  usages  of 
war  with  the  atrocious  and  bloody  cruelties  of  the  savage. 
Yet  so  it  is  : the  Delawares  of  the  hills,”  here  the  Yankees 
exchanged  very  peculiar  looks,  “ have  this  morning  arrived 
at  Fort  Peak,  with  orders  to  ravage  the  whole  of  your  frontier, 
from  Fort  George  to  Lake  Erie.  They  brought  us  the  in- 
formation of  )rour  approach,  and  their  chief  is,  while  I speak, 
making  an  infamous  proposition  by  which  a price  is  to  be 
paid  for  every  scalp  he  produces  in  the  morning.  Now,  as 
the  general  cannot  refuse  to  co-operate  with  the  savages, 
without  compromising  himself  with  the  commander-in-chief, 
neither  can  he  accept  of  such  assistance  without  some  pangs 
of  conscience.  He  has  taken  the  only  course  open  to  him  : 
he  has  dispatched  myself  and  my  brother  officers  here,” 
O’Flaherty  glanced  at  two  privates  dressed  up  in  his  regi- 
mentals, “ to  offer  you  terms ” 

O’ Flaherty  paused  when  he  arrived  thus  far,  expecting 
that  the  opposite  party  would  make  some  reply;  but  they 
continued  silent ; when,  suddenly,  from  the  dense  forest 
there  rung  forth  a wild  and  savage  yell,  that  rose  and  fell 
several  timesf  like  the  pibroch  of  the  Highlander,  and  ended 
at  last  in  a loud  whoop,  that  was  echoed  and  re-echoed  again 
and  again  for  several  seconds  after. 

“Hark!”  said  O’Flaherty,  with  an  accent  of  horror, 


- / 

y 

ZfAfcR  V L ORREQ  VER.  46^ 

<c  Hark  ! the  war-cry  of  the  Delavvrares  ! The  savages  are 
eager  for  their  prey.  May  it  yet  be  time  enough  to  rescue 
you  from  such  a fate  ! Time  presses,  our  terms  are  these, 
as  they  do  not  admit  of  discussion,  and  must  be  at  once 
accepted  or  rejected,  to  your  own  ear  alone  can  I impart 
them.” 

Saying  which,  he  took  Major  Brown  aside,  and,  walking 
apart  from  the  others,  led  him,  by  slow  steps,  into  the  forest. 
While  O’Flaherty  continued  to  dilate  upon  the  atrocities  of 
Indian  war  and  the  revengeful  character  of  the  savages,  he 
contrived  to  be  always  advancing  toward  the  river  side,  till 
at  length  the  glare  of  fire  was  perceptible  through  the  gloom. 
Major  Brown  stopped  suddenly,  and  pointed  in  the  direction 
of  the  flame. 

“ It  is  the  Indian  picket/’  said  O’Flaherty,  calmly  ; “ and 
as  the  facts  I have  been  detailing  may  be  more  palpable  to 
your  mind,  you  shall  see  them  with  your  own  eyes.  Yes,  I 
repeat  it,  you  shall,  through  the  cover  of  this  brushwood,  see 
Caudan-dacwagea  himself — for  he  is  with  them  in  person.” 

As  O’Flaherty  said  this,  he  led  Major  Brown,  now  speech- 
less with  terror,  behind  a massive  cork  tree,  from  which 
spot  they  could  look  down  upon  the  river  side,  where,  in  a 
small  creek,  sat  five  or  six  persons  in  blankets,  and  scarlet 
head-dresses  ; their  faces  streaked  with  patches  of  yellow  and 
red  print,  to  which  the  glare  of  the  fire  lent  fresh  horror.  In 
the  midst  sat  one,  whose  violent  gestures  and  savage  cries 
gave  him  the  very  appearance  of  a demon,  as  he  resisted 
with  all  his  might  the  efforts  of  the  others  to  restrain  him, 
shouting  like  a maniac  all  the  while,  and  struggling  to  rise. 

“ It  is  the  chief,”  said  O’Flaherty  ; “ he  will  wait  no  longer. 
We  have  bribed  the  others  to  keep  him  quiet,  if  possible,  a 
little  time  ; but  I see  they  cannot  succeed.”  * 

A loud  yell  of  triumph  from  below  interrupted  Tom’s 
speech  : the  infuriated  savage,  who  was  no  other  than  Mr. 
Malone,  having  obtained  the  rum-bottle,  for  which  he  was 
fighting  with  all  his  might,  his  temper  not  being  improved  in 
the  struggle  by  occasional  admonitions  from  the  red  end  of 
a cigar,  applied  to  his  naked  skin  by  the  other  Indians,  who 
were  his  own  soldiers,  acting  under  O’ Flaherty’s  orders. 

“ Now,”  said  Tom,  “ that  you  have  convinced  yourself,  and 
can  satisfy  your  brother  officers,  will  you  take  your  chance  ? 
or  will  you  accept  the  honored  terms  of  the  general,  pile 
your  arms,  and  retreat  beyond  the  river  before  daybreak  ? 


4.o6 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


Your  muskets  and  ammunition  will  offer  a bribe  to  the  cupid* 
ity  of  the  savage,  and  delay  his  pursuit  till  you  can  reach 
some  place  of  safety.” 

Major  Brown  heard  the  proposal  in  silence,  and  at  last 
determined  upon  consulting  his  brother  officers. 

“ I have  outstayed  my  time,”  said  O’Flaherty,  “ but  stop  ; 
the  lives  of  so  many  are  at  stake,  I consent.”  Saying  which, 
they  walked  on  without  speaking,  till  they  arrived  where  the 
others  were  standing  around  the  watch-fire. 

As  Brown  retired  to  consult  with  the  officers,  Tom  heard 
with  pleasure  how  much  his  two  companions  had  worked 
upon  the  Yankees’ fears  during  his  absence,  by  details  of  the 
vindictive  feelings  of  the  Delawares,  and  their  vows  to 
annihilate  the  Buffalo  militia. 

Before  five  minutes  they  had  decided.  Upon  a solemn 
pledge  from  O’Flaherty  that  the  terms  of  the  compact  were 
to  be  observed  as  he  stated  them,  they  agreed  to  march  with 
their  arms  to  the  ford,  where,  having  piled  them,  they  were  to 
cross  over,  and  make  the  best  of  their  way  home. 

By  sunrise  the  next  morning  all  that  remained  of  the  threat- 
ened attack  on  Fort  Peak  were  the  smouldering  ashes  of  some 
wood  fires,  eighty  muskets  piled  in  the  Fort,  and  the  yellow 
ochre  and  red  stripes  that  still  adorned  the  countenance  of 
the  late  Indian  chief  but  now  snoring  Lieutenant  Maurice 
Malone. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

THE  COURIER’S  PASSPORT. 

A second  night  succeeded  to  the  long  dreary  day  of  the 
diligence ; and  the  only  one  agreeable  reflection  arose  in  the 
feeling  that  every  mile  travelled  was  diminishing  the  chance 
of  pursuit,  and  removing  me  still  further  from  that  scene  of 
trouble  and  annoyance  that  was  soon  to  furnish  gossip  for 
Paris,  under  the  title  of  “ The  Affaire  O'  Leary” 

How  he  was  ever  to  extricate  himself  from  the  numerous 
and  embarrassing  difficulties  of  his  position  gave  me,  I con- 
fess, less  uneasiness  than  the  uncertainty  of  my  own  fortunes. 
Luck  seemed  ever  to  befriend  him,  me  it  had  always  accom- 
panied far  enough  through  life  to  make  its  subsequent  deser- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


407 


tion  more  painful.  How  far  I should  blame  myself  for  this, 
I stopped  not  to  consider,  but  brooded  over  the  fact  in  a 
melancholy  and  discontented  mood.  The  one  thought 
uppermost  in  my  mind  was,  how  will  Lady  Jane  receive  me  ? 
am  I forgotten,  or  am  I only  remembered  as  the  subject  of 
that  unlucky  mistake,  when,  under  the  guise  of  an  elder 
son,  I was  feted,  and  made  much  of?  What  pretensions  I 
had,  without  fortune,  rank,  influence,  or  even’  expectations 
of  any  kind,  to.  seek  the  hand  of  the  most  beautiful  girl  of 
the  day,  with  the  largest  fortune  as  her  dowry,  I dare  not 
ask  myself  ; the  reply  would  have  dashed  all  my  hopes,  and 
my  pursuit  would  have  at  once  been  abandoned.  “ Tell  the 
people  you  are  an  excellent  preacher,”  was  the  advice  of  an 
old  and  learned  divine  to  a younger  and  less  experienced 
one  ; “ tell  them  so  every  morning,  and  every  noon,  and  every 
evening,  and  at  last  they  will  begin  to  believe  it.”  So  thought 
I.  I shall  impress  upon  the  Callonbys  that  I am  a most 
unexceptionable  “ parti.”  Upon  every  occasion  they  shall 
hear  it : as  they  open  their  newspapers  at  breakfast,  as  they 
sip  their  soup  at  luncheon,  as  they  adjust  their  napkiti  at 
dinner,  as  they  chat  over  their  wine  at  night.  My  influence 
in  the  house  shall  be  unbounded,  my  pleasures  consulted, 
my  dislikes  remembered.  The  people  in  favor  with  me 
shall  dine  there  three  times  a week,  those  less  fortunate  shall 
be  put  into  schedule  A.  My  opinion  on  all  subjects  shall 
be  a law,  whether  I pronounce  upon  politics  or  discuss  a 
dinner;  and  all  this  I shall  accomplish  by  a successful 
flattery  of  my  lady,  a little  bullying  of  my  lord,  a devoted 
attention  to  the  youngest  sister,  a special  cultivation  of 
Kilkee,  and  a very  firononck  neglect  of  Lady  Jane.  These 
were  my  half-waking  thoughts,  as  the  heavy  diligence  rum- 
bled over  the  pave  into  Nancy;  and  I was  aroused  by  the 
door  being  suddenly  jerked  open,  and  a bronzed  face,  with 
a black  beard  and  mustache,  being  thrust  in  among  us. 

“Your  passports,  messieurs,”  as  a lantern  was  held  up  in 
succession  across  our  faces,  and  we  handed  forth  our  crumpled 
and  worn  papers  to  the  official. 

The  night  was  stormy  and  dark — gusts  of  wind  sweeping 
along,  bearing  with  them  the  tail  of  some  thunder-cloud, 
mingling  their  sound  with  a falling  tile  from  the  roofs  of  a 
broken  chimney-pot.  The  officer  in  vain  endeavored  to  hold 
open  the  passports  while  he  inscribed  his  name,  and  just  as 
the  last  scrawl  was  completed  the  lantern  went  out.  Mut- 


4-oS 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


tering  a heavy  curse  upon  the  weather,  he  thrust  them  in 
upon  us  en  masse , and,  banging  the  door  to,  called  out  to  the 
conducteur,  “ En  route.” 

Again  we  rumbled  on,  and  ere  we  cleared  the  last  lamps 
of  the  town  the  whole  party  was  once  more  sunk  in  sleep, 
save  myself.  Hour  after  hour  rolled  by,  the  rain  pattering 
upon  the  roof,  and  the  heavy  plash  of  the  horses’  feet  con- 
tributing their  mournful  sounds  to  the  melancholy  that  ^as 
stealing  over  me.  At  length  we  drew  up  at  the  door  of  a 
little  auberge , and,  by  the  noise  and  bustle  without,  I per- 
ceived there  was  a change  of  horses.  Anxious  to  stretch  my 
legs,  and  relieve,  if  even  for  a moment,  the  wearisome  monot- 
ony of  the  night,  I got  out  and  strode  into  the  little  parlor 
of  the  inn.  There  was  a cheerful  fire  in  an  open  stove,  beside 
which  stood  a portly  figure  in  a sheepskin  bunta  and  a cloth 
travelling  cap  with  a gold  band  ; his  legs  were  cased  in  high 
Russia  leather  boots,  all  evident  signs  of  the  profession  of 
the  wearer,  had  even  his  haste  at  supper  not  bespoke  the 
fact  that  he  was  a government  courier. 

“ You  had  better  make  haste  with  the  horses,  Antoine,  if 
you  don’t  wish  the  postmaster  to  hear  of  it,”  said  he,  as  I 
entered,  his  mouth  filled  with  pie-crust  and  vin  de  Beaune  as 
he  spoke. 

A lumbering  peasant,  with  a blouse,  sabots,  and  a striped 
night-cap,  replied  in  some  unknown  patois,  when  the  courier 
again  said  : 

f Well,  then,  take  the  diligence  horses ; I must  get  on  at 
alrevents.  They  are  not  so presse , I’ll  be  bound  ; besides, 
it  will  save  the  gendarmes  some  miles  of  a ride  if  they  over- 
take them  here.” 

“ Have  we  another  vise  of  our  passports  here,  then  ? ” 
said  I,  addressing  the  courier,  “ for  we  have  already  been 
examined  at  Nancy.” 

“ Not  exactly  a vise ,”  said  the  courier,  eying  me  most  sus- 
piciously as  he  spoke,  and  then  continuing  to  eat  with  his 
former  voracity. 

“ Then,  what,  may  I ask,  have  we  to  do  with  these  gen- 
darmes ? ” 

“ It  is  a search,”  said  the  courier,  gruffly,  and  with  the  air 
of  one  who  desired  no  further  questioning. 

I immediately  ordered  a bottle  of  Burgundy,  and  filling 
the  large  goblet  before  him,  said  with  much  respect : 

“ A votre  bonne  voyage,  Monsieur  le  Courier.” 


HARR  Y LORREQUER.  409 

To  this  he  at  once  replied,  by  taking  off  his  cap  and  bow- 
ing politely  as  he  drank  off  the  wine. 

“’Have  we  any  runaway  felon  or  a stray  galerien  among 
us,”  said  I,  laughingly,  “ that  they  are  going  to  search  us  ? ” 

“ No,  monsieur,”  said  the  courier  ; “ but  there  has  been  a 
government  order  to  arrest  a person  on  this  road  connected 
with  the  dreadful  Polish  plot,  that  has  just  eclated  at  Paris. 
I passed  a vidette  of  cavalry  at  Nancy,  and  they  will  be  up 
here  in  half  an  hour.” 

“ A Polish  plot ! Why,  I left  Paris  only  a few  days  ago, 
and  never  heard  of  it.” 

“ (Test  bien  possible,  monsieur — perhaps,  after  all,  it  may 
only  be  an  affair  of  the  police  ; but  they  have  certainly  ar- 
rested one  prisoner  at  Meurice’s,  charged  with  this,  as  well 
as  the  attempt  to  rob  Frascati  and  murder  the  croupier.” 

“ Alas,”  said  I,  with  a half-suppressed  groan,  “ it  is  too 
true ; that  infernal  fellow,  O’Leary,  has  ruined  me,  and  I 
shall  be  brought  back  to  Paris,  and  only  taken  from  prison^ 
to  meet  the  open  shame  and  ignominy  of  a public  trial.” 

What  was  to  be  done  ? — every  moment  was  precious.  I 
walked  to  the  door  to  conceal  my  agitation.  All  was  dark 
and  gloomy.  The  thought  of  escape  was  my  only  one  ; but 
how  to  accomplish  it.  Every  stir  without  suggested  to  my 
anxious  mind  the  approaching  tread  of  horses.  Every  rattle 
of  the  harness  seemed  like  the  clink  of  accoutrements. 

While  I yet  hesitated,  I felt  that  my  fate  was  in  the  bal- 
ance. Concealment  where  I was  was  impossible ; there 
were  no  means  of  obtaining  horses  to  proceed.  My  last 
only  hope  then  rested  in  the  courier ; he,  perhaps,  might  be 
bribed  to  assist  me  at  this  juncture.  Still,  his  impression  as 
to  the  enormity  of  the  crime  imputed  might  deter  him  ; and 
there  was  no  time  for  explanation,  if  even  he  would  listen 
to  it.  I returned  to  the  room  ; he  had  finished  his  meal  and 
was  now  engaged  in  all  the  preparations  for  encountering  a 
wet  and  dreary  night.  I hesitated ; my  fears  that  if  he 
should  refuse  my  offers,  all  chance  of  escape  was  gone,  de- 
terred me  for  a moment.  At  length,  as  he  wound  a large 
woollen  shawl  around  his  throat,  and  seemed  to  have  com- 
pleted his  costume,  I summoned  nerve  for  the  effort,  and, 
with  as  much  boldness  in  my  manner  as  I could  muster,  said  : 

“ Monsieur  le  Courier,  one  word  with  you,”  I here  closed 
the  door,  and  continued.  “ My  fortunes — my  whole  prospects 
in  life  depend  upon  my  reaching  Strasbourg  by  to-morrow 


4io 


HARR  Y LORRE  QUER. 


night.  You  alone  can  be  the  means  of  my  doing  so.  Is 
there  any  price  you  can  mention  for  which  you  will  render 
me  this  service  ? if  so,  name  it.” 

“ So,  then,  monsieur,”  said  the  courier,  slowly — “ so,  then, 
you  are  the ” 

“ You  have  guessed  it,”  said  I,  interrupting.  “ Do  you 
accept  my  proposal  ? ” 

“ It  is  impossible,”  said  he,  “ utterly  impossible  ; for,  even 
should  I be  disposed  to  run  the  risk  on  my  own  account,  it 
would  avail  you  nothing ; the  first  town  we  entered  your 
passport  would  be  demanded,  and,  not  being  vised  by  the 
minister  to  travel  en  courier , you  would  at  once  be  detained 
and  arrested.” 

“ Then  am  I lost ! ” said  I,  throwing  myself  upon  a chair ; 
at  the  same  instant  my  passport,  which  I carried  in  my 
breast-pocket,  fell  out  at  the  feet  of  the  courier.  He  lifted  it 
and  opened  it  leisurely.  So  engrossed  was  I by  my  misfor- 
tunes that  for  some  minutes  I did  not  perceive  that,  as  he 
continued  to  read  the  passport,  he  smiled  from  time  to  time, 
till  at  length  a hearty  fit  of  laughing  awoke  me  from  my 
abstraction.  My  first  impulse  was  to  seize  him  by  the 
throat ; controlling  my  temper,  however,  with  an  effort,  I 
said : 

“ And  pray,  monsieur,  may  I ask  in  what  manner  the  posi- 
tion I stand  in  at  this  moment  affords  you  so  much  amuse- 
ment ? Is  there  anything  so  particularly  droll— anything  so 
excessively  ludicrous  in  my  situation — or  what  particular  gift 
do  you  possess  that  shall  prevent  me  throwing  you  out  of 
the  window  ? ” 

“ Mais,  monsieur,”  said  he,  half  stifled  with  laughter,  “ do 
you  know  the  blunder  I fell  into  ? it  is  really  too  good. 
Could  you  only  guess  who  I took  you  for,  you  would  laugh 
too.” 

Here  he  became  so  overcome  with  merriment,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  sit  down,  which  he  did  opposite  to  me,  and  actually 
shook  with  laughter. 

“ When  this  comedy  is  over,”  thought  I,  “ we  may  begin 
to  understand  each  other.”  Seeing  no  prospect  of  this,  I 
became  at  length  impatient,  and  jumping  on  my  legs,  said : 

“ Enough,  sir,  quite  enough  of  this  foolery.  Believe  me, 
you  have  every  reason  to  be  thankful  that  my  present  em- 
barrassment should  so  far  engross  me  that  I cannot  afford 
time  to  give  you  a thrashing.” 


Harry  lorrequer. 


411 


“ Pardon,  mille  pardons,”  said  he,  humbly  ; “ but  you  will, 
I am  sure,  forgive  me  when  I tell  you  that  I was  stupid 
enough  to  mistake  you  for  the  fugitive  Englishman,  whom 
the  gendarmes  are  in  pursuit  of.  How  good,  eh  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! devilish  good — but  what  do  you  mean  ? ” 

“ Why,  the  fellow  that  caused  the  attack  at  Frascati,  and 
all  that,  and ” 

“ Yes — well,  eh?  Did  you  think  I was  he  ? ” 

“ To  be  sure  I did,  till  I saw  your  passport.” 

“ Till  you  saw  my  passport  ? ” Why,  what  on  earth  can  he 
mean  ? thought  I.  “ No,  but,”  said  I,  half  jestingly,  “ how 
could  you  make  such  a blunder  ? ” 

“ Why,  your  confused  manner — your  impatience  to  get  on 
— your  hurried  questions,  all  convinced  me.  In  fact,  I’d 
have  wagered  anything  you  were  the  Englishman.” 

“ And  what/in  heaven’s  name,  does  he  think  me  now  ? ” 
thought  I,  as  I endeavored  to  join  the  laugh  so  ludicrous  a 
mistake  occasioned. 

“ But  we  are  delaying  sadly,”  said  the  courier.  “ Are  you 
ready  ? ” 

“ Ready — ready  for  what  ? ” 

“ To  go  on  with  me,  of  course.  Don’t  you  wish  to  get 
early  to  Strasbourg  ? ” 

“ To  be  sure  I do.” 

“ Well,  then,  come  along.  But  pray,  don’t  mind  your  lug- 
gage, for  my  caleche  is  loaded.  Your  instruments  can  come 
in  the  diligence,” 

“ My  instruments  in  the  diligence ! He’s  mad — that’s 
flat.” 

“ How  they  will  laugh  at  Strasbourg  at  my  mistake.” 

“ That  they  will,”  thought  I.  “ The  only  doubt  is,  will 
you  join  in  the  merriment  ? ” 

So  saying,  I followed  the  courier  to  the  door,  jumped  into 
his  caliche,  and  in  another  moment  was  hurrying  over  the 
pave  at  a pace  that  defied  pursuit,  and  promised  soon  to 
make  up  for  all  our  late  delay.  Scarcely  was  the  fur-lined 
apron  of  the  caleche  buttoned  around  me,  and  the  German 
blinds  let  down,  when  I set  to  work  to  think  over  the 
circumstance  that  had  just  befallen  me.  As  I had  ilever 
examined  my  passport  from  the  moment  Trevanion  handed 
it  to  me  at  Paris,  I knew  nothing  of  its  contents  ; therefore, 
as  to  what  impression  it  might  convey  of  me,  I was  totally 
ignorant.  To  ask  the  courier  for  it  now  might  excite  sus* 


4-12 


HARkY  LORREQUEk. 


picions  ; so  that  I was  totally  at  sea  how  to  account  for  lib 
sudden  change  in  my  favor,  or  in  what  precise  capacity  I 
was  travelling  beside  him.  Once,  and  once  only,  the  thought 
of  treachery  occurred  to  me.  Is  he  about  to  hand  me  over 
to  the  gendarmes  ? and  are  we  now  only  retracing  our  steps 
toward  Nancy  ? If  so,  Monsieur  le  Courier,  whatever  be  my 
fate,  yours  is  certainly  an  unenviable  one.  My  reflections 
on  this  head  were  soon  broken  in  upon,  for  my  companion 
again  returned  to  the  subject  of  his  “ singular  error, ” and 
assured  me  that  he  was  as  near  as  possible  leaving  me  be- 
hind, under  the  mistaken  impression  of  my  being  “ myself ; ” 
and  informed  me  that  all  Strasbourg  would  be  delighted  to 
see  me,  which  latter  piece  of  news  was  only  the  more  flatter- 
ing, that  I knew  no  one  there,  nor  had  ever  been  in  that  city 
in  my  life  ; and  after  about  an  hour’s  mystification  as  to  my 
tastes,  habits,  and  pursuits,  he  fell  fast  asleep,  leaving  me  to 
solve  the  difficult  problem  as  to  whether  I was  not  somebody 
else,  or  the  only  alternative — whether  travelling  en  courier 
might  not  be  prescribed  by  physicians  as  a mode  for  treating 
insane  patients. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

A NIGHT  IN  STRASBOURG. 

With  the  dawn  of  day  my  miseries  recommenced  ; for  after 
letting  down  the  sash,  and  venting  some  very  fervent  impre- 
cations upon  the  postilion  for  not  going  faster  than  his  horses 
were  able,  the  courier  once  more  recurred  to  his  last  night’s 
blunder,  and  proceeded  very  leisurely  to  catechize  me  as 
to  my  probable  stay  at  Strasbourg,  when  I should  go  from 
thence,  etc.  As  I was  still  in  doubt  what  or  whom  he  took 
me  for,  I answered  with  the  greatest  circumspection — watch- 
ing the  while  for  any  clew  that  might  lead  me  to  a discovery 
of  myself.  Thus,  occasionally  evading  all  pushing  and  home 
queries,  and  sometimes,  when  hard  pressed,  feigning  drowsi- 
ness, I passed  the  long  and  anxious  day — the  fear  of  being 
overtaken  ever  mingling  with  the  thoughts  that  some  unlucky 
admission  of  mine  might  discover  my  real  character  to  the 
courier,  who,  at  any  post  station,  might  hand  me  over  to  the 
authorities.  Could  I only  guess  at  the  part  I am  performing, 
thought  I,  I might  manage  to  keep  up  the  illusion ; but  my 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


413 


attention  was  so  entirely  engrossed  by  fencing  off  all  his 
threats,  that  I could  find  out  nothing.  At  last,  as  night 
drew  near,  the  thought  that  we  were  approaching  Strasbourg 
rallied  my  spirits,  suggesting-an  escape  from  all  pursuits,  as 
well  as  tfie  welcome  prospect  of  getting  rid  of  my  present 
torturer,  who,  whenever  I awoke  from  a doze,  reverted  to  our 
singular  meeting  with  a pertinacity  that  absolutely  seemed 
like  malice. 

“ As  I am  awrare  that  this  is  your  first  visit  to  Strasbourg,  ” 
said  the  courier,  “ perhaps  I can  be  of  service  to  you  in  rec- 
ommending a hotel.  Put  up,  I advise  you,  a£  the  ‘ Bear  ’ — a 
capital  hotel,  and  not  ten  minutes’  distance  from  the  theatre.” 

I thanked  him  for  the  counsel ; and,  rejoicing  in  the  fact 
that  my  prototype,  whoever  he  might  be,  was  unknown  in  the 
city,  began  tQ  feel  some  little  hope  of  getting  through  this 
scrape,  as  I had  done  so  many  others. 

“ They  have  been  keeping  the  ‘ Pluguenots  ’ for  your  arri- 
val, and  all  Strasbourg  is  impatient  for  your  coming.” 

“ Indeed  ! ” said  I,  mumbling  something  meant  to  be 
modest.  “Who  the  devil  am  I,  then,  to  cause  all  this 
fracas  ? Heaven  grant,  not  the  new  4 prefect,’  or  the  com- 
mander of  the  forces.” 

“ I am  told  the  4 Zauberflotte  ’ is  your  favorite  opera  ? ” 

“ I can’t  say  that  I ever  heard  it — -that  is,  I mean  that  I 
could  say — well  got  up.” 

Here  I floundered  on,  having  so  far  forgot  myself  as  to 
endanger  everything. 

“ How  very  unfortunate  ! Well,  I hope  you  will  not  long 
have  as  much  to  say.  Meanwhile,  here  we  are — this  is  the 
‘ Bear.  ’ ” 

We  rattled  into  the  ample  porte  cochere  of  a vast  hotel — the 
postilion  cracking  his  enormous  whip,  and  bells  ringing  on 
every  side,  as  if  the  crown  prince  of  Russia  had  been  the 
arrival,  and  not  a poor  sub.  in  the  — th. 

The  courier  jumped  out,  and  running  up  to  the  landlord, 
whispered  a few  words  in  his  ear,  to  which  the  other  an- 
swered by  a deep  “ Ah  vraiment ! ” and  then  saluted  me  with 
an  obsequiousness  that  made  my  flesh  quake. 

“ I shall  make  ‘mes  hommages  ’ in  the  morning,”  said  the 
courier,  as  he  drove  off  at  full  speed  to  deliver  his  dispatches, 
and  left  me  to  my  own  devices  to  perform  a character,  without 
even  being  able  to  guess  what  it  might  be.  My  passport, 
1 90.  the  only  thing  that  could  throw  any  light  upon  the  affa|fy 


414 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER . 


he  had  taken  along  with  him,  promising  to  have  it  vised,  and 
save  me  any  trouble. 

Of  all  my  difficulties  and  puzzling  situations  in  life  this  was 
certainly  the  worst ; for  however  often  my  lot  had  been  to 
personate  another,  yet  hitherto  I had  had  the  good  fortune 
to  be  aware  of  what  and  whom  I was  performing.  Now  I 
might  be  anybody  from  Marshal  Soult  to  Monsieur  Scribe  ; 
one  thing  only  was  certain,  I must  be  a “ celebrity.”  The 
confounded  pains  and  trouble  they  were  taking  to  receive  me 
attested  the  fact,  and  left  me  to  the  pleasing  reflection  that 
my  detection,  should  it  take  place,  would  be  sure  of  attract- 
ing a very  general  publicity.  Having  ordered  my  supper 
from  the  landlord,  with  a certain  air  of  reserve,  sufficient 
even  to  prevent  an  Alsace  host  from  obtruding  any  questions 
upon  me,  I took  my  opportunity  to  stroll  from  the  inn  down 
to  the  river-side.  There  lay  the  broad  rapid  Rhine,  separating 
me,  by  how  narrow  a gulf,  from  that  land  where,  if  I once 
arrived,  my  safety  was  certain.  N ever  did  that  great  boundary 
of  nations  strike  me  so  forcibly  as  now  when  my  own 
petty  interests  and  fortune  were  at  stake.  Night  was  fast 
settling  upon  the  low  flat  banks  of  the  stream,  and  nothing 
stirred  save  the  ceaseless  ripple  of  the  river.  One  fishing 
bark  alone  was  on  the  water.  I hailed  the  solitary  tenant 
of  it,  and  after  some  little  parley  induced  him  to  ferry  me 
over.  This,  however,  could  only  be  done  when  the  night 
was  further  advanced — it  being  against  the  law  to  cross  the 
river  except  at  certain  hours,  and  between  two  established 
points  where  officers  of  the  revenue  were  stationed.  The 
fisherman  was  easily  bribed,  however,  to  evade  the  regulation, 
and  only  bargained  that  I should  meet  him  on  the  bank 
before  daybreak.  Having  settled  this  point  to  my  satisfac- 
tion, I returned  to  my  hotel  in  better  spirits  ; and  with  a 
Strasbourg  pate  and  a Hask  of  Nirensteiner,  drank  to  my 
speedy  deliverance. 

How  to  consume  the  long,  dreary  hours  between  this  time 
and  that  of  my  departure,  I knew  not ; for  though  greatly 
fatigued,  I felt  that  sleep  was  impossible  ; the  usual  resource 
of  a gossip  with  the  host  was  equally  out  of  the  question  ; and 
all  that  remained  was  the  theatre,  which  I happily  remem- 
bered was  not  far  from  the  hotel. 

It  was  an  opera  night,  and  the  house  was  crowded  to  excess  ; 
but  with  some  little  management  I obtained  a place  in  a box 
near  the  stage.  The  piece  was  “ Les  Franc-Magons,  ” which 


HARR  V LORREQUER. 


4iS 


was  certainly  admirably  supported,  and  drew  down  from  the 
audience — no  mean  one  as  judges  of  music — the  loudest 
thunders  of  applause.  As  for  me,  the  house  was  as  great 
a curiosity  as  the  opera.  The  novel  spectacle  of  some  hun- 
dreds of  people  relishing  and  appreciating  the  highest  order 
of  musical  genius  was  something  totally  new  and  surprising 
to  me.  The  curtain  at  length  fell  upon  the  fifth  act — and  now 
the  deafening  roar  of  acclamation  was  tremendous,  and  amid 
a perfect  shout  of  enthusiasm  the  manager  announced  the 
opera  for  the  ensuing  evening.  Scarcely  had  this  subsided, 
when  a buzz  ran  through  the  house ; at  first  subdued,  but 
gradually  getting  louder — extending  from  the  boxes  to  the 
balcony — from  the  balcony  to  the  parterre — and  finally  even 
to  the  galleries.  Groups  of  people  stood  upon  the  benches, 
and  looked  fixedly  on  one  part  of  the  house  ; then  changed 
and  regarded  as  eagerly  the  other. 

What  can  this  mean  ? thought  I.  Is  the  theatre  on  fire  ? 
Something  surely  has  gone  wrong ! 

In  this  conviction,  with  the  courageous  spirit  of  curiosity, 
I mounted  upon  a seat,  and  looked  about  me  on  every  side  ; 
but  unable  still  to  catch  the  object  which  seemed  to  attract 
the  rest,  as  I was  about  to  resume  my  place,  my  eyes  fell 
upon  a well-known  face,  which  in  an  instant  I remembered 
was  that  of  my  late  fellow-traveller  the  courier.  Anxious  to 
avoid  his  recognition,  I attempted  to  get  down  at  once,  but 
before  I could  accomplish  it,  the  wretch  had  perceived  and 
recognized  me  ; and  I saw  him,  even  with  a gesture  of  delight, 
point  me  out  to  some  friends  beside  him. 

“ Confound  the  fellow,”  muttered  I ; “ I must  leave  this 
at  once,  or  I shall  be  involved  in  some  trouble.” 

Scarcely  was  my  resolve  taken,  when  a new  burst  of  voices 
arose  from  the  pit — the  words  “ V Auteur ; ” “ V Auteur”  ming- 
ling with  loud  cries  for  “ Meerberger,”  “ Meerberger,”  to  ap- 
pear. So,  thought  I,  it  seems  the  great  composer  is  here. 
Oh,  by  Jove  ! I must  have  a peep  at  him  before  I go.  So, 
leaning  over  the  front  rail  of  the  box,  I looked  anxiously  about 
to  catch  one  hasty  glimpse  of  one  of  the  great  men  of  his  day 
and  country.  What  was  my  surprise,  however,  to  perceive 
that  about  two  thousand  eyes  were  firmly  riveted  upon  the 
box  I was  seated  in  ; while  about  half  the'  number  of  tongues 
called  out  unceasingly,  “ Mr.  Meerberger — vive  Meerberger 
— vive  T Auteur  des  Franc-Magons — vive  Franc-Magons,” 
etc.  Before  I could  turn  to  look  for  the  hero  of  the  scene, 


4*6 


BARRY  LORREQlIER. 


mv  legs  were  taken  from  under  me,  and  I felt  myself  lifted 
by  several  strong  men  and  held  out  in  front  of  the  box. 
while  the  whole  audience,  rising  en  masse , saluted  me — yes, 
me,  Harry  Lorrequer — with  a cheer  that  shook  the  building. 
Fearful  of  precipitating  myself  into  the  pit  beneath,  if  I made 
the  least  effort,  and  half  wild  with  terror  and  amazement,  I 
stared  about  like  a maniac,  while  a beautiful  young  woman 
tripped  along  the  edge  of  the  box,  supported  by  her  compan- 
ion’s hand,  and  placed  lightly  upon  my  brow  a chaplet  of 
roses  and  laurel.  Here  the  applause  was  like  an  earthquake. 

“ May  the  devil  fly  away  with  half  of  ye,”  was  my  grateful 
response  to  as  full  a cheer  of  applause  as  ever  the  walls  of 
the  house  re-echoed.  ** 

“ On  the  stage — on  the  stage ! ” shouted  that  portion  of 
the  audience  who,  occupying  the  same  side  of  the  house  as 
myself,  preferred  having  a better  view  of  me,  and  to  the  stage 
I was  accordingly  hurried,  down  a narrow  stair,  through  a 
side  scene,  and  over  half  the  corps  de  ballet  who  were  waiting 
for  their  entree . Kicking,  plunging,  buffeting  like  a madman, 
they  carried  me  to  the  “ flats,”  when  the  manager  led  me 
forward  to  the  foot-lights  ; my  wreath  of  flowers  contrasting 
rather  ruefully  wflth  my  bruised  cheek  and  torn  habiliments. 
Human  beings,  God  be  praised,  are  only  capable  of  certain 
efforts — so  that  one-half  the  audience  were  coughing  their 
sides  out,  while' the  other  were  hoarse  as  bull-frogs  from  their 
enthusiasm  in  less  than  five  minutes. 

“ You’ll  have  what  my  friend  Rooney  calls  a chronic  bron- 
chitis for  this,  these  three  weeks,”  said  I,  “ that’s  one  com- 
fort,” as  I bowed  my  way  back  to  the  ‘‘practicable  ” door, 
through  which  I made  my  exit,  with  the  thousand  faces  of 
the  parterre  shouting  my  name,  or,  as  fancy  dictated,  that  of 
one  of  my  operas.  I retreated  behind  the  scenes,  to  encoun- 
ter very  nearly  as  much,  and  at  closer  quarters,  too,  as  that 
lately  sustained  before  the  audience:  After  ah  embrace  of 
two  minutes’  duration  from  the  manager,  I ran  the  gauntlet 
from  the  prima  donna  to  the  last  triangle  of  the  orchestra, 
who  cut  away  a back  button  of  my  coat  as  a souvenir. 
During  all  this,  I must  confess,  very  little  acting  was  needed 
on  my  part.  They  were  so  perfectly  contented  with  their 
self-deception,  that  if  I had  made  an  affidavit  before  the 
mayor — if  there  be  such  a functionary  in  such  an  insane 
town — they  would  not  have  believed  me.  Wearied  and  ex- 
hausted at  length  by  all  I ha^.  gone  through,  I sat  down  upon 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


417 


a bench,  and  affecting  to  be  overcome  by  my  feelings,  con- 
cealed my  face  in  my  handkerchief.  This  was  the  first  mo- 
ment of  relief  I experienced  since  my  arrival ; but  it  was  not 
to  last  long,  for  the  manager,  putting  down  his  head  close  to 
my  ear,  whispered  : 

“ Monsieur  Meerberger,  I have  a surprise  for  you— such 
as  you  have  not  had  for  some  time2  I venture  to  say ” 

“I  defy  you  on  this  head,”  thought  I.  “ If  they  make  me 
out  King  Solomon  now,  it  will  not  amaze  me ” 

“ And  when  I tell  you  my  secret,”  continued  he,  “ you  will 
acknowledge  I cannot  be  of  a very  jealous  disposition.  Mad- 
ame Baptiste  has  just  told  me  she  knew  you  formerly,  and 
that— she — that  is.,  you — were — in  fact,  you  understand — 
there  had  been — so  to  say — a little  4 amourette  5 between  you.” 

I groaned  in  spirit  as  I thought,  now  I am  lost  without  a 
chance  of  escape — the  devil  take  her  reminiscences. 

“ I see,”,  continued  le  bon  mari , “ you  cannot  guess  of 
whom  I speak  ; but  when  I tell  you  of  Amelie  Grandet,  your 
memory  will,  perhaps,  be  better.” 

“ Amelie  Grandet  ! ” said  I,  with  a stage  start.  I need 
not  say  that  I had  never  heard  the  name  before.  “ Amelie 
Grandet  here  1 ” 

“ Yes,  that  is  she,”  said  the  manager,  rubbing  his  hands  ; 
“and  my  wife  too ” 

“ Married  ! Amelie  Grandet  married  ? No,  no  ; it  is  im- 
possible— I cannot  believe  it.  But  were  it  true — true,  mark 
me — for  worlds  would  I not  meet  her.” 

“ Comment  il  est  drole,”  said  the  manager,  soliloquizing 
aloud ; “ for  my  wife  takes  it  much  easier,  seeing  they  never 
met  each  other  since  they  were  fifteen.” 

“ Ho,  ho  ! ” thought  I,  “the  affair  is  not  so  bad  either — 
time  makes  great  changes  in  that  space.  And  does  she  still 
remember  me  ? ” said  I,  in  a very  Romeo-in-the-garden 
voice. 

“ Why,  so  far  as  remembering  the  little  boy  that  used  to 
play  with  her  in  the  orchard  at  her  mother’s  cottage  near 
Pima,  and  with  whom  she  used  to  go  boating  upon  the  Elbe, 
I believe  the  recollection  is  perfect.  But  come  along — she 
insists  upon  seeing  you,  and  is  this  very  moment  waiting 
supper  in  our  room  for  you.” 

“ A thorough  German  she  must  be,”  thought  I,  “ with  her 
sympathies  and  her  supper — her  reminiscences  and  her  Rhine 
wine  hunting  in  couples  through  her  brain.” 


418 


HARRY  L OR  REQ  HER . 


Summoning  courage  from  the  fact  of  our  long  absence  from 
each  other,  I followed  the  manager  through  a wilderness  of 
pavilions,  forests,  clouds,  and  cataracts,  and  at  length  arrived 
at  a little  door,  at  which  he  knocked  gently. 

“ Come  in,”  said  a soft  voice  inside.  We  opened,  and 
beheld  a very  beautiful  young  woman  in  Tyrolese  costume. 
She  was  to  perform  in  the  afterpiece — her  low  bodice  and 
short  scarlet  petticoat  displaying  the  most  perfect  symmetry 
of  form  and  roundness  of  proportion.  She  was  dressing  her 
hair  before  a low  glass  as  we  came  in,  and  scarcely  turned  at 
our  approach  ; but  in  an  instant,  as  if  some  sudden  thought 
had  struck  her,  she  sprung  fully  round,  and  looking  at  me 
fixedly  for  above  a minute — a very  trying  one  for  me — she 
glanced  at  her  husband,  whose  countenance  plainly  indicated 
that  she  was  right,  and  calling  out,  “ Cest  lui- — c'estbien  Ini ,” 
threw  herself  into  my  arms,  and  sobbed  convulsively. 

“ If  this  were  to  be  the  only  fruits  of  my  impersonation,” 
thought  I,  “ it  is  not  so  bad — but  I am  greatly  afraid  these 
good  people  will  find  out  a wife  and  seven  babies  for  me 
before  morning.” 

Whether  the  manager  thought  that  enough  had  been  done 
for  stage  effect,  I know  not ; but  he  gently  disengaged  the 
lovely  Amelie,  and  deposited  her  upon  a sofa,  to  a place  upon 
which  she  speedily  motioned  me  by  a look  from  a pair  of 
very  seducing  blue  eyes. 

“ Francois,  mon  cher,  you  must  put  off  La  Chaumiere.  I 
can’t  play  to-night.” 

“ Put  it  off ! But  only  think  of  the  audience,  ma  mie — they 
will  pull  down  the  house.” 

“ C’est  possible,”  said  she,  carelessly.  “ If  that  will  give 
them  any  pleasure,  I suppose  they  must  be  indulged  ; but  I, 
too,  must  have  a little  of  my  own  way.  I shall  not  play.” 

The  tone  this  was  said  in — the  look — the  easy  gesture  of 
command — no  less  than  the  afflicted  helplessness  of  the 
luckless  husband,  showed  me  that  Amelie,  however  docile  as 
a sweetheart,  had  certainly  her  own  way  as  a wife. 

While  le  cher  Francois  then  retired,  to  make  his  proposition 
to  the  audience  of  substituting  something  for  the  Chaumiere 
— the  “ sudden  illness  of  Madame  Baptiste  having  prevented 
her  appearance  ” — we  began  to  renew  our  old  acquaintance 
by  a thousand  inquiries  from  that  long-past  time  when  we 
were  sweethearts  and  lovers. 

“ You  remember  me,  then,  so.  well  ? ” said  I. 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


4 *9 


u As  of  yesterday.  You  are  much  taller,  and  your  eyes 
darker;  but  still — there  is  something.  You  know,  however, 
I have  been  expecting  to  see  you  these  two  days ; and  tell 
me  frankly,  how  do  you  find  me  looking?  ” 

“ More  beautiful,  a thousand  times  more  beautiful  than 
ever — all  save  in  one  thing,  Amelie.” 

“ And  that  is ” 

“ You  are  married.” 

“ How  you  jest.  But  let  us  look  back.  Do  you  ever 
think  on  any  of  our  old  compacts  ? ” Here  she  pulled  a 
leaf  from  a rosebud  in  her  bouquet,  and  kissed  it.  “ I wager 
that  you  have  forgotten  that.” 

How  I should  have  replied  to  this  masonic  sign,  God 
knows ; but  the  manager  fortunately  entered,  to  assure  us 
that  the  audience  had  kindly  consented  not  to  pull  down  the 
house,  but  to  listen  to  a five-act  tragedy  instead,  in  which  he 
had  to  perform  the  principal  character.  “ So,  then,  don’t 
wait  supper,  Amelie  ; but  take  care  of  Monsieur  Meerberger 
till  my  return.” 

Thus,  once  more  wdre  we  left  to  our  souvenirs,  in  which 
whenever  hard  pushed  myself,  I regularly  carried  the  war  into 
the  enemy’s  camp,  by  allusions  to  incidents,  which  I need  not 
observe  had  never  occurred.  After  a thousand  stories  of 
our  early  loves,  mingled  with  an  occasional  sigh  over  their 
fleeting  character — now  indulging  a soft  retrospect  of  the  once 
happy  past — now  moralizing  on  the  future — Amelie  and 
I chatted  away  the  hours  till  the  conclusion  of  the  tragedy. 

By  this  time  the  hour  was  approaching  for  my  departure ; 
so,  after  a very  tender  leave-taking  with  my  new  friend  and 
my  old  love,  I left  the  theatre,  and  walked  slowly  along  to 
the  river. 

“ So  much  for  early  associations,”  thought  I ; “ and  how 
much  better  pleased  are  we  ever  to  paint  the  past  according 
to  our  own  fancy  than  to  remember  it  as  it  really  was. 
Hence  all  the  insufferable  cant  about  happy  infancy  and  ‘the 
glorious  school-boy  days,’  which  have  generally  no  more 
foundation  in  the  fact  than  have  the  ‘ Chateaus  en  Espagne  ’ 
we  build  up  for  the  future.  I wager  that  the  real  Amant 
d’Enfance,  when  he  arrives,  is  not  half  so  great  a friend  with 
the  fair  Amelie  as  his  unworthy  shadow.  At  the  same  time, 
I had  just  as  soon  that  Lady  Jane  should  have  no  ‘premiers 
amours  ’ to  look  back  upon,  except  such  as  I have  performed 
a character  in.” 


420 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


The  plash  of  oars  near  me  broke  up  my  reflections,  and 
the  next  moment  found  me  skimming  the  rapid  Rhine,  as  I 
thought,  for  the  last  time.  What  will  they  say  in  Strasbourg 
to-morrow  ? How  will  they  account  for  the  mysterious  dis- 
appearance of  Monsieur  Meerberger  ? Poor  Amelie  Grandet ! 
For  so  completely  had  the  late  incidents  engrossed  my  at- 
tention that  I had  for  the  moment  lost  sight  of  the  most 
singular  event  of  all — how  I came  to  be  mistaken  for  the 
illustrious  composer. 


CHAPTER  L. 

A SURPRISE. 

It  was  late  upon  the  following  day  ere  I awoke  from  the 
long,  deep  sleep  that  -closed  my  labors  in  Strasbourg.  In 
the  confusion  of  my  waking  thoughts,  I imagined  myself 
still  before  a crowded  and  enthusiastic  audience — the  glare 
of  the  foot-lights — the  crash  of  the  orchestra — the  shouts 
of  “ V Auteur  ” UV  Auteur”  were  all  before  me,  and  so 
completely  possessed  me,  that,  as  the  waiter  entered  with 
hot  water,  I could  not  resist  the  impulse  to  pull  off  my  night- 
cap with  one  hand,  and  press  the  other  to  my  heart  in  the 
usual  theatrical  style  of  acknowledgments  for  a most  flatter- 
ing reception.  The  startled  look  of  the  poor  fellow,  as  he 
neared  the  door  to  escape,  roused  me  from  my  hallucination, 
and  awakened  me  to  the  conviction  that  the  suspicion  of 
lunacy  might  be  a still  heavier  infliction  than  the  personation 
of  Monsieur  Meerberger. 

With  thoughts  of  this  nature,  I assumed  my  steadiest 
demeanor — ordered  my  breakfast  in  the  most  orthodox 
fashion — eat  it  like  a man  in  his  senses  ; and  when  I threw 
myself  back  in  the  wicker  conveniency  they  called*  a caleche, 
and  bid  adieu  to  Kehl,  the  whole  fraternity  of  the  inn  would 
have  given  me  a certificate  of  sanity  before  any  court  in 
Europe. 

“ Now  for  Munich,  ” said  I,  as  we  rattled  along  down  the 
steep  street  of  the  little  town.  “ Now  for  Munich,  with  all 
the  speed  that  first  of  postmasters  and  slowest  of  men,  the 
Prince  of  Tour  and  Taxis,  will  afford  us.” 

The  future  engrossed  all  my  thoughts  ; and  puzzling  as  my 


421 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 

late  adventures  had  been  to  account  for,  I never  for  a mo- 
ment reverted  to  the  past  “ Is  she  to  be  mine  ? ” was  the 
ever-rising  question  in  my  mind.  The  thousand  difficulties 
that  had  crossed  my  path  might  long  since  have  terminated  a 
pursuit  where  there  was  so  little  of  promise,  did  I not  cherish 
the  idea  in  my  heart,  that  I was  fated  to  succeed.  Sheridan 
answered  the  ribald  sneers  of  his  first  auditory  by  saying, 

“ Laugh  on  ; but  I have  it  in  me,  and  by it  shall  come 

out.”  So  I whispered  to  myself  : Go  on,  Harry.  Luck  has 
been  hitherto  against  you,  it  is  true  ; but  you  have  yet  one 
throw  of  the  dice,  and  something  seems  to  say  a fortunate 
one,  in  store  ; and,  if  so — but  I cannot  trust  myself  with  such 
anticipations.  I am  well  aware  how  little  the  world  sym- 
pathizes with  the  man  whose  fortunes  are  the  sport  of  his 
temperament — that  April  day  frame  of  mind  is  ever  the  jest 
and  scoff  of  those  hardier  and  sterner  natures,  who,  if  never 
overjoyed  by  success,  are  never  much  depressed  by  failure. 
That  I have  been  cast  in  the  former  mould,  these  Confessions 
have,  alas  ! plainly  proved ; but  that  I regret  it,  I fear  also, 
for  my  character  for  sound  judgment,  I must  answer  “ No.” 

“ Better  far  to  be 

In  utter  darkness  lying, 

Than  be  blest  with  light  and  see 
That  light  forever  flying,” 

is,  doubtless,  very  pretty  poetry,  but  very  poor  philosophy. 
For  myself,  and  some  glimpses  of  sunshine  this  fair  world 
has  afforded  me,  fleeting  and  passing  enough,  in  all  con- 
science, and  yet  I am  not  so  ungrateful  as  to  repine  at  my 
happiness,  because  it  was  not  permanent ; as  I am  thankful 
for  those  bright  hours  of  “ Love’s  young  dream,”  which,  if 
nothing  more,  are  at  least  delightful  souvenirs.  They  form 
the  golden  thread  in  the  tangled  web  of  our  existence,  ever 
appearing  amid  the  darker  surface  around,  and  throwing  a 
fair  halo  of  brilliancy  on  what,  'without  it,  were  cold,  bleak* 
and  barren.  No,  no — 

“ The  light  that  lies 
In  woman’s  eyes,” 

were  it  twice  as  fleeting,  as  it  is  ten  times  more  brilliant  than 
the  forked  lightning,  irradiates  the  dark  gloom  within  us  for 
many  a long  day  after  it  has  ceased  to  shine  upon  us.  As  ip 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER. 


422 

boyhood  it  is  the  humiliating  influence  that  tempers  the  fierce 
and  unruly  passions  of  our  nature,  so,  in  manhood,  it  forms 
the  goal  to  which  all  our  better  and  higher  aspirations  tend, 
telling  us  there  is  something  more  worthy  than  gold,  an/i  a 
more  lofty  pinnacle  of  ambition  than  the  praise  and  envy  of 
our  fellow-men  : and  we  may  rest  assured  that  when  this 
feeling  dies  within  us,  all  the  ideal  of  life  dies  with  it,  and 
nothing  remains  save  the  dull  reality  of  our  daily  cares  and 
occupations.  “ I have  lived  and  have  loved/’  saith  Schiller  ; 
and  if  it  were  not  that  there  seems  some  tautology  in  the 
phrase,  I should  say  such  is  my  own  motto.  If  Lady  Jane 
but  prove  true — if  I have  really  succeeded — if,  in  a word — 
but  why  speculate  upon  such  chances  ? — what  pretensions 
have  I ? — what  reason  to  look  for  such  a prize  ? Alas  ! and 
alas  ! were  I to  catechize  myself  too  closely,  I fear  that  my 
horsec’  heads  would  face  toward  Calais,  and  that  I should 
turn  my  back  upon  the  only  prospect  of  happiness  I can 
picture  to  myself  in  this  world.  In  reflections  such  as  these 
the  hours  rolled  over,  and  it  was  already  late  at  night  when 
we  reached  the  little  village  of  Merchem.  While  fresh  horses 
were  being  got  ready,  I seized  the  occasion  to  partake  of  the 
table  d'hote  supper  of  the  inn,  at  the  door  of  which  the  diligence 
was  drawn  up.  Around  the  long  and  not  over-scrupulously 
.clean  table  sat  the  usual  assemblage  of  German  “ Eilwagen  ” 
— smoking,  dressing  salad,  knitting,  and  occasionally  picking 
their  teeth  with  their  forks,  until  the  soup  should  make  its 
appearance.  Taking  my  place  amid  this  motley  assemblage 
of  mustachioed  shopkeepers  and  voluminously-petticoated 
fraus,  I sat  calculating  how  long  human  patience  could  endure 
such  companionship,  when  my  attention  was  aroused  by  hear- 
ing a person  near  me  narrate  to  his  friend  the  circumstances 
of  my  debut  at  Strasbourg,  with  certain  marginal  notes  of  his 
own  that  not  a little  surprised  me. 

“ And  so  it  turned  out  not  to  be  Meerberger,  after  all,” 
said  the  listener. 

“ Of  course  not,”  replied  the  other.  “ Meerberger’s  pass- 
port was  stolen  from  him  in  the  diligence  by  this  English 
escrocy  and  the  consequence  was  that  our  poor  countryman 
was  arrested,  the  other  passport  being  found  upon  him, 
while  the  Englishman,  proceeding  to  Strasbourg,  took  his 
benefit  at  the  opera,  and  walked  away  with  about  twelve 
thousand  florins.” 

“ Sapperment ! ” said  the  other,  tossing  off  his  beer.  “ He 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


423 

must  have  been  a clever  fellow,  though,  to  lead  the  orchestra 
in  the  Franc-Magons.” 

“ That  is  the  most  astonishing  part  of  all ; for  they  say  in 
Strasbourg  that  his  performance  upon  the  violin  was  f^r  finer 
than  Paganini’s  ; but  there  seems  some  secret  in  it,  after  all ; for 
Madame  Baptiste  swears  that  he  is  Meerberger  ; and  in  fact 
the  matter  is  far  from  being  cleared  up — nor  can  it  be  till  he 
is  apprehended.” 

“ Which  shall  not  be  for  sometime  to  come,”  said  I to  my- 
self, as,  slipping  noiselessly  from  the  room,  I regained  my 
caleche  and  in  ten  minutes  more  was  proceeding  on  my 
journey.  So  much  for  correct  information,  thought  I.  One 
thing,  however,  is  certain — to  the  chance  interchange  of  pass- 
ports I owe  my  safety,  with  the  additional  satisfaction  that 
my  little  German  acquaintance  is  reaping  a pleasant  retribu- 
tion for  all  his  worry  and  annoyance  of  me  in  the  coupe. 

Only  he  who  has  toiled  over  the  weary  miles  of  a long 
journey — exclusively  occupied  with  one  thought — one  over- 
powering feeling — can  adequately  commiserate  my  impatient 
anxiety  as  the  days  rolled  slowly  over  on  the  long,  tiresome 
road  that  leads  from  the  Rhine  to  the  south  of  Germany. 

The  morning  was  breaking  on  the  fourth  day  of  my 
journey  as  the  tall  spires  of  Munich  rose  to  my  view,  amid 
the  dull  and  arid  desert  of  sand  that  city  is  placed  in.  At 
last  ! was  my  exclamation  as  the  postilion  tapped  at  the 
window  with  his  whip,  and  then  pointed  toward  the  city. 
At  last ! Oh  ! what  would  be  the  ecstasy  of  my  feelings  now, 
could  I exchange  the  torturing  anxieties  of  suspense  for  the 
glorious  certainty  my  heart  throbs  for  ; now  my  journey  is 
nearing  its  end  to  see  me  claim  as  my  own  what  I now  barely 
aspire  to  in  the  sanguine  hope  of  a heart  that  will  not 
despair.  But  cheer  up,  Harry.  It  is  a noble  stake  you 
play  for,  and  it  is  ever  the  bold  gambler  that  wins.  Scarcely 
was  this  reflection  made,  half  aloud,  when  a sudden  shock 
threw  me  from  my  seat.  I fell  toward  the  door,  which,  burst- 
ing open,  launched  me  out  upon  the  road,  at  the  same  moment 
that  the  broken  axle-tree  of  the  caleche  had  upset  it  on  the 
opposite  side,  carrying  one  horse  along  with  it,  and  leaving 
the  other  with  the  postilion  on  his  back,  kicking  and  plunging 
with  all  his  might.  After  assisting  the  frightened  fellow  to 
dismount,  and  having  cut  the  traces  of  the  restive  animal,  I 
then  perceived  that  in  the  melee  I had  not  escaped  scathless. 
I could  barely  stand  ; and,  on  passing  my  hand  upon  my  in* 


424 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


step,  perceived  I had  sprained  my  ankle  in  the  fall.  The  day 
was  only  breaking,  no  one  was  in  sight,  so  that  after  a few 
minutes’  consideration,  the  best  thing  to  do  appeared  to  be 
to  get  the  other  horse  upon  his  legs,  and  dispatching  the 
postilion  to  Munich,  then  about  three  leagues  distant,  for  a 
carriage,  wait  patiently  on  the  roadside  for  his  return.  No 
sooner  was  the  resolve  made  than  carried  into  execution, 
and  in  Jess  than  a quarter  of  an  hour  from  the  moment  of 
the  accident  I was  seated  upon  the  bank,  watching  the  re- 
tiring figure  of  the  postilion,  as  he  disappeared  down  a hill, 
on  his  way  to  Munich.  When  the  momentary  burst  of 
impatience  was  over,  I could  not  help  congratulating  myself 
that  I was  so  far  fortunate  in  reaching  the  end  of  my  journey 
ere  the  mischance  befell  me.  Had  it  pccurred  at  Stuttgart, 
I really  think  that  it  would  have  half  driven  me  distracted. 

I was  not  long  in  my  present  situation  till  a number  of 
peasants,  with  broad-brimmed  hats  and  many-buttoned 
coats,  passed  on  their  way  to  work ; they  all  saluted  me  re- 
spectfully ; but  although  they  saw  the  broken  carriage,  and 
might  well  guess  at  the  nature  of  my  accident,  yet  not  one 
ever  thought  of  proffering  his  services,  or  even  indulging 
curiosity,  by  way  of  inquiry.  44  How  thoroughly  German,” 
thought  I ; “ these  people  are  the  Turks  of  Europe,  stupefied 
with  tobacco  and  4 starkes  bier.’  They  have  no  thought  for 
anything  but  themselves,  and  their  own  immediate  occupa- 
tions.” Perceiving  at  length  one  whose  better  dress  and 
more  intelligent  look  bespoke  a rank  above  the  common,  I 
made  the  effort  with  such  44  platt  deutch  ” as  I could  muster, 
to  ask  if  there  were  any  house  near,  where  I could  remain 
till  the  postilion’s  return  ? and  learned,  greatly  to  my  gratifi- 
cation, that  by  taking  the  path  which  led  through  a grove  of 
pine  trees  near  me,  I should  find  a chateau,  but  who  was  the 
proprietor  he  knew  not;  indeed  the  people  were  only  newly 
come,  and  he  believed  were  foreigners.  English,  he  thought. 
Oh,  how  my  heart  jumped  as  I said,  44  Can  they  be  the  Cal- 
lonbys ; are  they  many  in  the  family  ; are  there  ladies — 
young  ladies,  among  them  ? ” — he  knew  not.  Having  hastily 
arranged  with  my  new  friend  to  watch  the  carriage  till  my 
return,  I took  the  path  he  showed  me,  and  smarting  with 
pain  at  every  step,  hurried  along  as  best  I could  toward  the 
chateau.  I had  not  walked  many  minutes,  when  a break  in 
the  wood  gave  me  a view  of  the  old  mansion,  and  at  once 
dispelled  the  illusion  that  was  momentarily  gaining  upon  me, 


HARR  V L ORREQ  UER . 


42S 


“ They  could  not  be  the  Callonbys.”  The  house  was  old  : 
and  though  it  had  once-  been  a fine  and  handsome  structure, 
exhibited  now  abundant  traces  of  decay  ; the  rich  cornices 
which  supported  the  roof  had  fallen  in  many  places,  and  lay 
in  fragments  upon  the  terrace  beneath  ; the  portico  of  the 
door  was  half  tumbling ; and  the  architraves  of  the  windows 
were  broken  and  dismantled,  the  tall  and  once  richly  orna- 
mented chimneys  were  bereft  of  all  their  tracery,  and  stood 
bolt  upright  in  all  their  nakedness  above  the  high-pitched 
roof.  A straggling  jet  d'eau  was  vigorously  fighting  its 
way  amid  a mass  of  creeping  shrubs  and  luxuriant  lichens 
that  had  grown  around  and  above  a richly  carved  fountain, 
and  fell  in  a shower  of  sparkling  dew  upon  the  rank  grass 
and  tall  weeds  around.  The  gentle  murmur  was  the  only 
sound  that  broke  the  stillness  of  the  morning. 

A few  deities  in  lead  and  stone,  mutilated  and  broken, 
stood  like  the  genii  loci , guarding  the  desolation  about  them, 
where  an  old,  superannuated  peacock,  with  drooping,  ragged 
tail,  was  the  only  living  thing  to  be  seen.  All  bespoke  the 
wreck  of  what  once  was  great  and  noble,  and  all  plainly  toki 
me  that  such  could  not  be  the  abode  of  the  Callonbys. 

Half  doubting  that  the  house  was  inhabited,  and  half  scru- 
pling, if  so,  to  disturb  the  inmates  from  their  rest,  I sat  down 
upon  the  terrace  steps  and  fell  into  a fit  of  musing  on  the 
objects  about.  That  strange  propensity  of  my  countrymen 
to  settle  down  in  remote  and  unfrequented  spots  upon  the 
Continent  had  never  struck  me  so  forcibly  ; for  although  un- 
questionably there  were  evident  traces  of  the  former  grandeur 
of  the  place,  yet  it  was  a long-past  greatness  ; and  in  the 
dilapidated  walls,  broken  statues,  weed-grown  walks,  and 
dark  and  tangled  pine  grove,  there  were  more  hints  for  sadness 
than  I should  willingly  surround  myself  by  in  a residence.  The 
harsh  grating  of  a heavy  door  behind  roused  me.  I turned 
and  beheld  an  old  man  in  a species  of  tarnished  and  worm- 
eaten  livery,  who,  holding  the  door,  again  gazed  at  me  with 
a mingled -expression  of  fear  and  curiosity.  Having  briefly 
explained  the  circumstances  which  had  befallen  me,  and  ap- 
pealed to  the  broken  caliche  upon  the  road  to  corroborate  a 
testimony  that  I perceived  needed  such  aid,  the  old  man  in- 
vited me  to  enter,  saying  that  his  master  and  mistress  were 
not  risen,  but  that  he  would  himself  give  me  some  breakfast, 
of  which  by  this  time  I stood  much  in  want.  The  room  into 
which  I was  ushered  corresponded  well  with  the  exterior  of 


426 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER. 


the  house.  It  was  large,  bleak,  and  ill-furnished  ; the  ample, 
uncurtained  windows  ; the  cold,  white,  panelled  walls ; the 
uncarpeted  floor ; all  giving  it  an  air  of  uninhabited  misery. 
A few  chairs  of  the  Louis  Quatorze  taste,  with  blue  velvet 
linings,  faded  and  worn,  a cracked  marble  table  upon  legs  that 
once  had  been  gilt ; two  scarcely  detectable  portraits  of  a 
mail-clad  hero  and  a scarcely  less  formidable  fair,  with  a 
dove  upon  her  wrist,  formed  the  principal  articles  of  furniture 
in  the  dismal  abode,  where  so  triste  and  depressing  did  every- 
thing appear,  that  I half  regretted  the  curiosity  that  had 
tempted  me  from  the  balmy  air  and  cheerful  morning  with- 
out to  the  gloom  and  solitude  around  me. 

The  old  man  soon  reappeared  with  a not  despicable  cup 
of  cafe  noir  and  a piece  of  bread  as  large  as  a teaspoon, 
and  used  by  the  Germans  pretty  much  in  the  same  way.  As 
the  adage  of  the  “ gift  horse  ” is  of  tolerably  general  accep- 
tation, I eat  and  was  thankful,  mingling  my  acknowledg- 
ments from  time  to  time  with  some  questions  about  the 
owners  of  the  mansion,  concerning  whom  I could’  not  help 
feeling  curious.  The  ancient  servitor,  however,  knew  little 
or  nothing  of  those  he  served  ; his  master  was  the  honorable 
baron  ; but  of  his  name  he  was  ignorant ; his  mistress  was 
young;  they  had  not  been  many  months  there  ; they  knew 
no  one — had  no  visitors — he  had  heard  they  were  English, 
but  did  not  know  it  himself  ; they  were  “ gute  Leute  ” — “ good 
people,”  and  that  was  enough  for  him.  How  strange  did  all 
this  seem,  that  two  people,  young  too,  should  separate  them- 
selves from  all  the  attractions  and  pleasures  of  the  world, 
and  settle  down  in  the  dark  and  dreary  solitude,  where  every 
association  was  of  melancholy,  every  object  a text  for  sad 
reflections.  Lost  in  these  thoughts  I sat  down  beside  the 
window,  and  heeded  not  the  old  man  as  he  noiselessly  left 
the  room.  My  thoughts  ran  over  the  strange  phases  in  which 
life  presents  itself,  and  how  little,  after  all,  external  influences 
have  to  do  with  that  peace  of  mind  whose  origin  is  within. 
The  Indian  whose  wigwam  is  beside  the  cataract  heeds  n6t 
its  thunders,  nor  feels  its  sprays  as  they  fall  in  everlasting 
dews  upon  him  ; the  Arab  of  the  desert  sees  no  bleakness  rn 
those  never-ending  plains,  upon  whose  horizon  his  eye  has 
rested  from  childhood  to  age.  Who  knows  but  he  who  in- 
habits this  lonely  dwelling  may  have  once  shone  in  the  gay 
world,  mixing  in  its  follies,  tasting  of  its  fascination ; and  to 
think  that  now — the  low  murmurs  of  the  pine  tops,  the  gen- 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


427 


tie  rustle  of  the  water  through  the  rank  grass,  and  my  own 
thoughts  combining,  overcame  me  at  length,  and  I slept — - 
how  long  I know  not ; but  when  I awoke,  certain  changes 
about  showed  me  that  some  length  of  time  had  elapsed;  a 
gay  wood-fire  was  burning  on  the  hearth  ; an  ample  break- 
fast covered  the  table  ; and  the  broadsheet  of  the  “ Times  ” 
newspaper  was  negligently  reposing  in  the  deep  hollow  of  an 
arm-chair.  Before  I had  well  thought  how  to  apologize  for 
the  cool  insouciance  of  my  intrusion,  the  door  opened,  and  a 
tall,  well-built  man  entered  ; his  shooting  jacket  and  gaiters 
were  evidence  of  his  English  origin,  while  a bushy  mustache 
and  most  ample  “ Henri  Quatre  ” nearly  concealed  features 
that  still  were  not  quite  unknown  to  me  ; he  stopped,  looked 
steadily  at  me,  placed  a hand  on  either  shoulder,  and  calling 
out,  “ Harry— Harry  Lorrequer,  by  all  that’s  glorious,” 
rushed  from  the  room  in  a transport  of  laughter. 

If  my  escape  from  the  gallows  depended  upon  my  guess- 
ing my  friend,  I should  have  submitted  to  the  last  penalty  of 
the  law  ; never  was  I so  completely  nonplussed.  Confound 
him,  what  does  he  mean  by  running  away  in  that  fashion  ? 
It  would  serve  him  right  were  I to  decamp  by  one  of  the 
windows  before  he  comes  back  ; but  hark  ! some  one  is  ap- 
proaching. 

“ I tell  you  I cannot  be  mistaken,”  said  the  man’s  voice 
from  without. 

“ Oh,  impossible  ! ” said  a lady-like  accent  that  seemed 
not  heard  by  me  for  the  first  time. 

“ Judge  for  yourself ; though  certainly  the  last  time  you 
saw  him  may  confuse  your  memory  a little.” 

“ What  the  devil  does  he  mean  by  that  ? ” said  I,  as  the 
door  opened,  and  a very  beautiful  young  woman  came  for- 
ward, who,  after  a moment’s  hesitation,  called  out : 

“ True,  indeed,  it  is  Mr.  Lorrequer,  but  he  seems  to  have 
forgotten  me.” 

The  eyes,  the  lips,  the  tone  of  the  voice,  were  all  familiar. 
What ! can  it  be  possible  ? Her  companion,  who  had  now 
entered,  stood  behind  her,  holding  his  sides  with  ill-sup- 
pressed mirth ; and  at  length  called  out : 

“ Harry,  my  boy,  you  scarcely  were  more  discomposed  the 
last  morning  we  parted,  when  the  yellow  plush ” 

“ By  Jove,  it  is,”  said  I,  as  I sprang  forward,  and  seizing 
my  fair  friend  in  my  arms,  saluted  upon  both  cheeks  my 
quondam  flame,  Miss  Kamworth,  now  the  wife  of  my  old 


428 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


friend,  Jack  Waller,  of  whom  I have  made  due  mention  in 
an  early  chapter  of  these  Confessions. 

Were  I given  a muster-roll  of  my  acquaintance,  to  say 
which  of  them  might  inhabit  this  deserted  mansion,  Jack 
Waller  would  certainly  have  been  the  last  I should  have 
selected — the  gay,  lively,  dashing,  high-spirited  Jack,  fond 
of  society,  dress,  equipage,  living  greatly  in  the  world, 
known  to  and  liked  by  everybody,  of  universal  reputation. 
Did  you  want  a cavalier  to  see  your  wife  through  a crush  at 
the  opera,  a friend  in  a duel,  a rider  for  your  kicking  horse 
in  a stiff  steeple-chase,  a bow  oar  for  your  boat  at  a rowing 
match,  Jack  was  your  man.  Such,  then,  was  my  surprise  at 
finding  him  here,  that  although  there  were  many  things  I 
longed  to  inquire  about,  my  first  question  was  : 

“ And  how  came  you  here  ? ” 

“ Life  has  its  vicissitudes,”  replied  Jack,  laughing  ; “ many 
stranger  things  have  come  to  pass  than  my  reformation. 
But  first  of  all,  let  us  think  of  breakfast ; you  shall  have 
ample  satisfaction  for  all  your  curiosity  afterward.” 

“ Not  now,  I fear;  I am  hurrying  on  to  Munich.” 

“ Oh,  I perceive ; but  you  are  aware  that — your  friends 
are  not  there  ? ” 

“ The  Callonbys  not  at  Munich  ! ” said  I,  with  a start. 

“No;  they  have  been  at  Saltzburgh,  in  the  Tyrol,  for 
some  weeks ; but  don’t  fret  yourself,  they  are  expected  to- 
morrow in  time  for  the  court  masquerade  ; so  that,  until  then, 
at  least,  you  are  my  guest.” 

Overjoyed  at  this  information,  I turned  my  attention  to- 
ward madame,  whom  I found  much  improved ; the  embon- 
point of  womanhood  had  still  further  increased  the  charms 
of  one  who  had  always  been  handsome ; and  I could  not 
help  acknowledging  tnat  my  friend  Jack  was  warrantable  in 
any  scheme  for  securing  such  a prize. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

JACK  WALLER’S  STORY. 

The  day  passed  quickly  over  with  my  newly-found  friends, 
whose  curiosity  to  learn  my  adventures  since  we  parted  an- 
ticipated me  in  my  wish  to  learn  theirs.  After  an  aarly  dim 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


429 

ner,  however,  with  a fresh  log  upon  the  hearth,  a crusty  flask 
of  red  hermitage  before  us,  Jack  and  I found  ourselves 
alone,  and  at  liberty  to  speak  freely  together. 

“ I scarcely  could  have  expected  such  would  be  our  meet- 
ing, Jack,”  said  I,  “from  the  way  we  last  parted.” 

“Yes,  by  Jove,  Harry;  I believe  I behaved  but  shabbily 
to  you  in  that  affair;  but  4 Love  and  War,’  you  know;  and, 
besides,  we  had  a distinct  agreement  drawn  up  between 
us.” 

44  All  true;  and  after  all  you  are  perhaps  less  to  blame 
than  my  own  miserable  fortune,  that  lies  in  wait  to  entrap 
and  disappoint  me  at  every  turn  in  life.  Tell  me,  what  do 
you  know  of  the  Callonbys  ? ” 

44  Nothing,  personally  ; we  have  met  them  at  dinner,  a visit 
passed  subsequently  between  us,  4 et  voilk  tout ; ’ they  have 
been  scenery  hunting,  picture  hunting,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing 
since  their  arrival ; and  rarely  much  in  Munich  ; but  how  do 
you  stand  there,  to  be  or  not  to  be — eh  ?” 

44  That  is  the  very  question  of  all  others  I would  fain  solve ; 
and  yet  am  in  most  complete  ignorance  of  all  about  it ; but 
the  time  approaches  which  must  decide  all.  I have  neither 
temper  nor  patience  for  further  contemplation  of  it ; so  here 
goes,  success  to  the  enterprise.” 

44  Or,”  said  Jack,  tossing  off  his  glass  at  the  moment,  44  or, 
as  they  wrould  say  in  Ireland,  4 Your  health  and  inclinations, 
if  they  be  virtuous/  ” 

44  And  now,  Jack,  tell  me  something  of  your  own  fortunes 
since  the  day  you  passed  me  in  the  post-chaise  and  four.” 

44  The  story  is  soon  told.  You  remember  that  when  I 
carried  off  Mary,  I had  no  intention  of  leaving  England,  what- 
ever ; my  object  was,  after  making  her  my  wife,  to  open  nego- 
tiations with  the  old  colonel,  and  after  the  approved  routine 
of  penitential  letters  imploring  forgiveness,  and  setting  forth 
happiness,  only  wanting  his  sanction  to  make  it  heaven  itself, 
to  have  thrown  ourselves  at  his  feet,  selon  les  regies , sobbed, 
blubbered,  blew  our  noses,  and  dressed  for  dinner,  very 
comfortable  inmates  of  that  particularly  snug  residence, 
4 Hydrabad  Cottage/  Now  Mary,  who  behaved  with  great 
courage  for  a couple  of  days,  after  that  got  low-spirited  and 
depressed ; the  desertion  of  her  father,  as  she  called  it, 
weighed  upon  her  mind,  and  all  my  endeavors  to  rally  and 
comfort  her  were  fruitless  and  unavailing.  Each  day,  how- 
ever, I expected  to  hear  something  of  or  from  the  colonel,  that 


Harry  lorrequer. 


43° 

would  put  an  end  to  this  feeling  of  suspense ; but  no  : three 
weeks  rolled  on,  and  although  I took  care  that  he  knew  of 
our  address,  we  never  received  any  communication.  You 
are  aware  that  when  I married,  I knew  Mary  had,  or  was  to 
have,  a large  fortune ; and  that  I myself  had  not  more  than 
enough  in  the  world  to  pay  the  common  expenses  of  our 
wedding  tour.  My  calculation  was  this : the  reconciliation 
will  possibly,  what  with  delays  of  post,  distance,  and  delibera- 
tion, take  a month — say  five  weeks  ; now,  at  forty  pounds 
per  week,  that  makes  exactly  two  hundred  pounds — such 
being  the  precise  limit  of  my  exchequer,  when,  blessed  with  a 
wife,  a man  and  a maid,  three  imperials,  a cap-case,  and  a 
poodle,  I arrived  at  the  Royal  Hotel,  in  Edinburgh.  Had  I 
been  Lord  Francis  Egerton,  with  his  hundred  thousand  a 
year,  looking  for  a new  i distraction/  at  any  price ; or  still 
more — were  I a London  shopkeeper,  spending  a Sunday  in 
Boulogne-sur-Mer,  and  trying  to  find  out  something  expensive, 
as  he  had  only  one  day  to  stay,  I could  not  have  more  in- 
dustriously sought  out  opportunities  for  extravagance,  and 
each  day  contrived  to  find  out  some  two  or  three  acquaint- 
ances to  bring  home  to  dinner.  And  as  I affected  to  have 
been  married  for  a long  time,  Mary  felt  less  genee  among 
strangers,  and  we  got  on  famously ; still  the  silence  of  the 
colonel  weighed  upon  her  mind,  and  although  she  partook 
of  none  of  my  anxieties  from  that  source,  being  perfectly 
ignorant  of  the  state  of  my  finances,  she  dwelt  so  constantly 
upon  this  subject,  that  I at  length  yielded  to  her  repeated 
solicitations  and  permitted  her  to  write  to  her  father.  Her 
letter  was  a most  proper  one  ; combining  a dutiful  regret  for 
leaving  her  home,  with  the  hope  that  her  choice  had  been 
such  as  to  excuse  her  rashness,  or  at  least,  palliate  her  fault. 
It  went  oh  to  say,  that  her  father’s  acknowledgment  of  her 
was  all  she  needed  or  cared  for  to  complete  her  happiness, 
and  asking  for  his  permission  to  seek  it  in  person.  This 
was  the  substance  of  the  letter,  which  upon  the  whole  satis- 
fied me,  and  I waited  anxiously  for  the  reply.  At  the  end 
of  five  days  the  answer  arrived.  It  was  thus  : 

“ ‘ Dear  Mary, — You  have  chosen  your  own  path  in  life, 
and  having  done  so,  I have  neither  the  right  nor  inclination 
to  interfere  with  your  decision  ; I shall  neither  receive  you 
nor  the  person  you  have  made  your  husband  ; and  to  pre- 
vent any  further  disappointment,  inform  you  that,  as  I leave 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


43* 


this  to-morrow,  any  future  letters  you  might  think  proper  to 
address  will  not  reach  me.  Yours  very  faithful, 

44 4 C.  Kamworth. 


“ 4 Hydrabad  Cottage.’ 


44  This  was  a tremendous  coup , and  not  in  the  least  antici- 
pated by  either  of  us ; upon  me  the  effect  was  stunning, 
knowing,  as  I did,  that  our  fast  diminishing  finances  were 
nearly  expended.  Mary,  on  the  other  hand,  who  neither 
knew  nor  thought  of  the  exchequer,  rallied  at  once  from  her 
depression,  and  after  a hearty  fit  of  crying,  dried  her  eyes 
and  putting  her  arms  round  my  neck,  said  : 

44 4 Well,  Jack,  I must  only  love  you  the  more,  since  papa 
will  not  share  any  of  my  affection.’ 

44 1 wish  he  would  his  purse,  though,’  muttered  I,  as  I 
pressed  her  in  my  arms,  and  strove  to  seem  perfectly  happy. 

44 1 shall  not  prolong  my  story  by  dwelling  upon  the  agi- 
tation this  letter  cost  me ; however,  I had  yet  a hundred 
pounds  left,  and  an  aunt  in  Harley  Street,  with  whom  I had 
always  been  a favorite.  This  thought,  the  only  rallying  one 
I possessed,  saved  me  for  the  time  ; and  as  fretting  was  never 
my  forte,  I never  let  Mary  perceive  that  anything  had  gone 
wrong,  and  managed  so  well  in  this  respect,  that  my  good 
spirits  raised  hers,  and  we  set  out  for  London  one  fine  sun- 
shiny morning  as  happy  a looking  couple  as  ever  travelled 
the  north  road. 

44  When  we  arrived  at  the  4 Clarendon,’  my  first  care  was 
to  get  into  a cab,  and  drive  to  Harley  Street.  I rung  the 
bell ; and  not  waiting  to  ask  if  my  aunt  was  at  home,  I dashed 
upstairs  to  the  drawing-room ; in  I bolted,  and  instead  of 
the  precise  old  Lady  Lilford  sitting  at  her  embroidery,  with 
her  fat  poodle  beside  her,  beheld  a strapping  looking  fellow, 
with  a black  mustache,  making  fierce  love  to  a young  lady 
on  a sofa  beside  him. 

44  4 Why,  how  is  this — I really — there  must  be  some  mis- 
take here.’  In  my  heart  I knew  that  such  doings  in  my  good 
aunt’s  dwelling  were  impossible. 

44  4 1 should  suspect  there  is,’ , drawled  out  he  of  the 
mustache,  as  he  took  a very  cool  survey  of  me  through  his 
glass. 

44  4 Is  Lady  Lilford  at  home,  may  I ask  ? ’ said  I,  in  a very 
apologetic  tone  of  voice. 

44  4 1 haven’t  the  honor  of  her  ladyship’s  acquaintance,’  re- 


4 32 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 


plied  he  in  a lisp,  evidently  enjoying  my  perplexity,  which 
was  every  moment  becoming  more  evident. 

44  4 But  this  is  her  house/  said  I,  4 at  least 

44  4 Lady  Lilford  is  at  Paris,  sir/  said  the  young  lady,  who 
now  spoke  for  the  first  time.  4 Papa  has  taken  the  house  for 
the  season,  and  that  may  perhaps  account  for  your  mistake/ 
44  What  I muttered  by  way  of  apology  for  my  intrusion 
I know  not;  but  I stammered — the  young  lady  blushed — 
the  beau  chuckled  and  turned  to  the  window,  and  when  I 
found  myself  in  the  street,  I scarcely  knew  whether  to  laugh 
at  my  blunder,  or  curse  my  disappointment. 

“ The  next  morning  I called  upon  my  aunt’s  lawyer,  and 
having  obtained  her  address  in  Paris,  sauntered  to  the  4 Junior 
Club/  to  write  her  a letter  before  post  hour.  As  I scanned 
over  the  morning  papers,  I could  not  help  smiling  at  the 
flaming  paragraph  which  announced  my  marriage  to  the  only 
daughter  and  heiress  of  the  millionaire,  Colonel  Kamworth. 
Not  well  knowing  how  to  open  the  correspondence  with  my 
worthy  relative,  I folded  the  paper  containing  the  news,  and 
addressed  it  to  4 Lady  Lilford,  Hotel  de  Bristol,  Paris/ 

44  When  I arrived  at  the  4 Clarendon/  I found  my  wife  and 
her  maid  surrounded  by  cases  and  bandboxes  ; laces,  satins, 
and  velvets  were  displayed  on  all  sides,  while  an  emissary 
from  4 Storr  & Mortimer  ’ was  arranging  a grand  review  of 
jewelry  on  a side-table  ; one  half  of  which  would  have  ruined 
the  Rajah  of  Mysore  to  purchase.  My  advice  was  imme- 
diately called  into  requisition ; and  pressed  into  service,  I had 
nothing  lefpfor  it  but  to  canvass,  criticize,  and  praise,  between 
times,  which  I did  with  a good  grace,  considering  that  I 
anticipated  the  6 Fleet  ’ for  every  flounce  of  Valenciennes 
lace  ; and  could  not  help  associating  a rich  diamond  aigrette 
with  hard  labor  for  life  and  the  climate  of  New  South  Wales. 
The  utter  abstraction  I was  in  led  to  some  awkward  contre- 
temps ; and  as  my  wife’s  enthusiasm  for  the  purchases  in- 
creased, so  did  my  reverie  gain  ground. 

44  4 Is  it  not  beautiful,  Jack — how  delicately  worked — it  must 
have  taken  a long  time  to  do  it ! 9 

44  4 Seven  years/  I muttered,  as  my  thoughts  ran  upon  a 
very  different  topic. 

44  4 Oh,  no — not  so  much/  said  she,  laughing  ; 4 and  it  must 
be  such  a hard  thing  to  do/ 

4 4 4 Not  half  so  hard  as  carding  wool  or  pounding  oystef 
shells/ 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


4 33 

“ 4 How  absurd  you  are.  Well,  I’ll  take  this,  it  will  look 
so  well  in ’ 

“ 4 Botany  Bay,’  said  I,  with  a sigh,  that  set  all  the  party 
laughing,  which  at  last  roused  me,  and  enabled  me  to  join  in 
the  joke. 

“,As,  at  length,  one  half  of  the  room  became  filled  with 
millinery  and  the  other  glittered  with  jewels  and  bijouterie, 
my  wife  grew  weary  with  her  exertions,  and  we  found  our- 
selves alone. 

44  When  I told  her  that  my  aunt  had  taken  up  her  resi- 
dence in  Paris,  it  immediately  occurred  to  her  how  pleasant 
it  would  be  to  go  there,  too ; and,  although  I concurred  in 
the  opinion  for  very  different  reasons,  it  was  at  length  de- 
cided we  should  do  so ; and  the  only  difficulty  now  existed 
as  to  the  means,  for  though  the  daily  papers  teem  with  4 four 
ways  to  go  from  London  to  Paris,’  they  all  resolved  them- 
selves into  one,  and  that  one,  unfortunately  to  me,  the  most 
difficult  and  impracticable — by  money. 

44  There  was,  however,  one  last  resource  open,  the  sale  of 
my  commission.  I will  not  dwell  upon  what  it  cost  me  to 
resolve  upon  this — the  determination  was  a painful . one,  but 
it  was  soon  come  to,  and  before  five  o’clock  that  day  Cox  & 
Greenwood  had  got  their  instructions  to  sell  out  for  me,  and 
had  advanced  a thousand  pounds  of  the  purchase.  Our  bill 
settled — the  waiters  bowing  to  the  ground  (it  is  your  ruined 
man  that  is  always  most  liberal),  the  post-horses  harnessed 
and  impatient  for  the  road,  I took  my  place  beside  my  wife, 
while  my  valet  held  a parasol  over  the  soubrette  in  the  rum- 
ble, all  in  the  approved  fashion  of  those  who  have  an  un- 
limited credit  with  Coiitts  & Drummond  ; the  whips  cracked, 
the  leaders  capered,  and  with  a patronizing  bow  to  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  4 Clarendon,’  away  we  rattled  to  Dover. 

44  After  the  usual  routine  of  sea-sickness,  fatigue,  and 
poisonous  cookery,  we  reached  Paris  on  the  fifth  day,  and 
put  up  at  the  4 Hotel  de  Londres,  Place  Vendome.’ 

44  To  have  an  adequate  idea  of  the  state  of  my  feelings  as 
I trod  the  splendid  apartments  of  this  princely  hotel,  sur- 
rounded by  every  luxury  that  wealth  can  procure  or  taste 
suggest,  you  must  imagine  the  condition  of  a man  who  is  re- 
galed with  a sumptuous  banquet  on  the  eve  of  his  execution. 
The  inevitable  termination  to  all  \ my  present  splendor  was 
never  for  a moment  absent  from  my  thoughts,  and  the  secrecy 
with  which  I was  obliged  to  conceal  my  feelings  formed  one 


434 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


of  the  greatest  sources  of  my  misery.  The  coup,  when  it  does 
come,  will  be  sad  enough  ; and  poor  Mary  may  as  well  have 
the  comfort  of  the  deception,  as  long  as  it  lasts,  without 
suffering  as  I do.  Such  was  the  reasoning  by  which  I met 
every  resolve  to  break  to  her  the  real  state  of  our  finances, 
and  such  the  frame  of  mind  in  which  I spent  my  days  at 
Paris,  the  only  really  unhappy  ones  I can  ever  charge  my 
memory  with. 

“ We  had  scarcely  got  settled  in  the  hotel  when  my  aunt, 
who  inhabited  the  opposite  side  of  the  i Place/  came  over  to 
see  us  and  wish  us  joy.  She  had  seen  the  paragraph  in  the 
Post,  and,  like  all  other  people  with  plenty  of  money,  fully 
approved  a match  like  mine. 

“ She  was  delighted  with  Mary,  and,  despite  the  natural 
reserve  of  the  old  maiden  lady,  became  actually  cordial,  and 
invited  us  to  dine  with  her  that  day,  and  every  succeeding 
one  we  might  feel  disposed  to  do  so.  So  far  so  well,  thought 
I,  as  I offered  her  my  arm  to  see  her  home  ; but  if  she  knew 
of  what  value  even  this  small  attention  is  to  us,  am  I quite  so 
sure  she  would  offer  it  ? However,  no  time  is  to  be  lost.  I 
cannot  live  in  this  state  of  hourly  agitation  ; I must  make 
some  one  the  confidant  of  my  sorrows,  and  none  so  fit  as  she, 
who  can  relieve  as  well  as  advise  upon  them.  Although  such 
was  my  determination,  yet  somehow  I could  not  pluck  up 
courage  for  the  effort.  My  aunt’s  congratulations  upon  my 
good  luck  made  me  shrink  from  the  avowal ; and  while  she 
ran  on  upon  the  beauty  and  grace  of  my  wife,  topics  I fully 
concurred  in,  I almost  chimed  in  with  her  satisfaction  at  the 
prudential  and  proper  motives  which  led  to  the  match. 
Twenty  times  I was  on  the  eve  of  interrupting  her  and  saying, 
‘ But,  madam,  I am  a beggar — my  wife  has  not  a shilling — 
I have  absolutely  nothing — her  father  disowns  us — my  com- 
mission is  sold,  and  in  three  weeks  the  “ Hotel  de  Londres  ” 
and  the  “ Palais  Royal  ” will  be  some  hundred  pounds  richer, 
and  I without  the  fare  of  a cab  to  drive  me  to  the  Seine  to 
drown  myself/ 

“ Such  were  my  thoughts  ; but  whenever  I endeavored  to 
speak  them,  some  confounded  fulness  in  my  throat  nearly 
choked  me ; my  temples  throbbed,  my  hands  trembled,  and 
whether  it  was  shame  or  the  sickness  of  despair,  I cannot  say  ; 
but  the  words  would  not  come,  and  all  that  I could  get  out 
was  some  flattery  of  my  wife’s  beauty,  or  some  vapid  eulogy 
upon  my  own  cleverness  in  securing  such  a prize.  To  give 


HA RR  Y L ORREQUER. 


435 


you  in  one  brief  sentence  an  idea  of  my  state,  Harry — know 
then,  that  though  loving  Mary  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  as 
I felt  she  deserved  to  be  loved,  fifty  times  a day,  I would  have 
given  my  life  itself  that  you  had  been  the  successful  man,  on 
the  morning  I carried  her  off,  and  that  Jack  Waller  was  once 
more  a bachelor,  to  see  the  only  woman  he  ever  loved,  the  wife 
of  another. 

“ But  this  is  growing  tedious,  Harry,  I must  get  over  the 
ground  faster  ; two  months  passed  over  at  Paris,  during  which 
we  continued  to  live  at  the  4 Londres/  giving  dinners,  soirees, 
dejeuners , with  the  prettiest  equipage  in  the  4 Champs  Ely- 
sees  ; ’ we  were  quite  the  mode  ; my  wife,  which  is  rare  enough 
for  ail  Englishwoman,  kn,ew  how  to  dress  herself.  Our  even- 
ing parties  were  the  most  recherchk  things  going,  and  if  I 
were  capable  of  partaking  of  any  pleasure  in  the  kdat , I had 
my  share,  having  won  all  the  pigeon  matches  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne,  and  beaten  Lord  Henry  Seymour  himself  in  a 
steeple-chase.  The  continual  round  of  occupation  in  which 
pleasure  involves  a man  is  certainly  its  greatest  attraction — 
reflection  is  impossible — the  present  is  too  full  to  admit  any 
of  the  past,  and  very  little  of  the  future ; and  even  I,  with  all 
my  terrors  awaiting  me,  began  to  feel  a half  indifference  to 
the  result  in  the  manifold  cares  of  my  then  existence.  To  this 
state  of  fatalism — for  such  it  was  becoming — had  I arrived, 
when  the  vision  was  dispelled  in  a moment,  by  a visit  from 
my  aunt,  who  came  to  say  that,  some  business  requiring  her 
immediate  presence  in  London,  she  was  to  set  out  that  even- 
ing, but  hoped  to  find  us  in  Paris  on  her  return.  I was 
thunderstruck  at  the  news,  for,  although  as  yet  I had  obtained 
no  manner  of  assistance  from  the  old  lady,  yet  I felt  that  her 
very  presence  was  a kind  of  security  to  us,  and  that  in  every 
sudden  emergency  she  was  there  to  apply  to.  My  money  was 
nearly  expended,  the  second  and  last  instalment  of  my  com- 
mission was  all  that  remained,  and  much  of  even  that  I owed 
to  trades-people.  I now  resolved  to  speak  out — the  worst 
must  be  known,  thought  I,  in  a few  days — and  now  or  never 
be  it.  So  saying,  I drew  my  aunt’s  arm  within  my  own,  and 
telling  her  that  I wished  a few  minutes’  conversation  alone, 
led  her  to  one  of  the  less  frequented  walks  in  the  Tuileries 
gardens.  When  we  had  got  sufficiently  far  to  be  removed 
from  all  listeners,  I began  then — 4 My  dearest  aunt,  what  I 
have  suffered  in  concealing  from  you  so  long  the  subject  of 
my  present  confession  will  plead  as  my  excuse  in  not  mak* 


HARRY  LORREQVER. 


436 

ing  you  sooner  my  confidante.’  When  I had  got  thus  far  the 
agitation  of  my  aunt  was  such,  that  I could  not  venture  to 
say  more  for  a minute  or  two.  At  length  she  said,  in  a kind 
of  hurried  whisper,  ‘ Go  on  ; ’ and  although  then  I would  have 
given  all  I possessed  in  the  world  to  have  continued,  I could 
not  speak  a word. 

“‘Dear  John,  what  is  it?  anything  about  Mary, — for 
heaven’s  sake,  speak.’ 

“‘Yes,  dearest  aunt,  it  is  about  Mary,  and  entirely  about 
Mary.’ 

“ ‘ AL,  dear  me,  I feared  it  long  since  ; but  then,  John,  con- 
sider she  is  very  handsome — very  much  admired — and ’ 

“ ‘ That  makes  it  all  the  heavier,  my  dear  aunt — the  prouder 
her  present  position,  the  more  severely  wiij  she  feel  the 
reverse.’  N . 

“ ‘ Oh,  but  surely,  John,  your  fears  must  exaggerate  the 
danger.’ 

“ ‘ Nothing  of  the  kind — I have  not  words  to  tell  you ’ 

“ ‘ Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  don’t  say  so,’  said  the  old  lady,  blush- 
ing, ‘for  though  I have  often  remarked  a kind  of  gay  flirting 
manner  she  has  with  men — I am  sure  she  means  nothing  by 
it — she  is  so  young — and  so ’ 

“ I stopped,  stepped  forward,  and  looking  straight  in  my 
aunt’s  face,  broke  out  into  a fit  of  laughter,  that  she,  mistak- 
ing for  hysterical  from  its  violence,  nearly  fainted  upon  the 
spot. 

“ As  soon  as  I could  sufficiently  recover  gravity  to  explain 
to  my  aunt  her  mistake,  I endeavored  to  do  so,  but  so  ludi- 
crous was  the  contretemps , and  so  ashamed  the  old  lady  for 
her  gratuitous  suspicions,  that  she  would  not  listen  to  a word, 
and  begged  me  to  return  to  her  hotel.  Such  an  unexpected 
turn  to  my  communication  routed  all  my  plans,  and  after  a 
very  awkward  silence  of  some  minutes  on  both  sides,  I mum- 
bled something  about  our  expensive  habits  of  life,  costly 
equipage,  number  of  horses,  etc.,  and  hinted  at  the  propriety 
of  retrenchment. 

“ ‘ Mary  rides  beautifully,’  said  my  aunt,  dryly. 

“ ‘ Yes  ; but,  my  dear  aunt,  it  was  not  exactly  of  that  I was 
going  to  speak ; for,  in  fact ’ 

“ ‘ Oh,  John,’  said  she,  interrupting,  ‘ I know  your  delicacy 
too  well  to  suspect ; but,  in  fact,  I have  myself  perceived  what 
you  allude  to,  and  wished^ery  much  to  have  some  conversa* 
tion  with  you  on  the  subject.’ 


STARRY  LORREQUER,  43? 

“ 4 Thank  God/  said  I to  myself,  4 at  length  we  understand 
each  other ; and  the  ice  is  broken  at  last.’ 

“ 4 Indeed,  I think  I have  anticipated  your  wish  in  the 
matter ; but  as  time  presses,  and  I must  look  after  all  my 
packing,  I shall  say  good-bye  for  a few  weeks,  and  in  the 
evening,  Jepson,  who  stays  here,  will  bring  44 what  I mea?i” 
over  to  your  hotel ; once  more,  then,  good-bye.’ 

“ 4 Good-bye,  my  dearest,  kindest  friend/  said  I,  taking  a 
most  tender  adieu  of  the  old  lady.  4 What  an  excellent  creat- 
ure she  is/  said  I,  half  aloud,  as  I turned  toward  home  ; 
4 how  considerate,  how  truly  kind,  to  spare  me,  too,  all  the 
pain  of  explanation.  Now  I begin  to  breathe  once  more.  If 
there  be  a flask  of  Johannisberg  in  the  44  Londres,”  I’ll  drink 
your  health  this  day,  and  so  shall  Mary ; ’ so  saying,  I entered 
the  hotel  with  a lighter  heart,  and  a firmer  step  than  ever  it 
had  been  my  fortune  to  do  hitherto. 

44  4 We  shall  miss  the  old  lady,  I’m  sure,  Mary,  she  is  so 
kind.’ 

44  4 Oh  ! indeed  she  is ; but  then,  John,  she  is  such  a prude/ 

44  Now  I could  not  help  recurring  in  my  mind  to  some  of 
the  conversation  in  the  Tuileries  garden,  and  did  not  feel 
exactly  at  ease. 

44  4 Such  a prude,  and  so  very  old-fashioned  in  her  notions.’ 

44  4 Yes,  Mary/  said  I,  with  more  gravity  ‘than  she  was 
prepared  for,  4 she  is  a prude ; but  I am  not  certain  that  in 
foreign  society,  where  less  liberties  are  tolerated  than  in  our 
country,  if  such  a bearing  be  not  wiser.’  What  I was  going 
to  plunge  into,  heaven  knows,  for  the  waiter  entered  at  the 
moment,  and  presenting  me  with  a large  and  carefully  sealed 
package,  said,  4 de  la  part  de  mi  ladi  Lilfore/ — 4 but  stay,  here 
comes,  if  I am  not  mistaken,  a better  eulogy  upon  my  dear 
aunt  than  any  I can  pronounce.’ 

44  4 How  heavy  it  is/  said  I to  myself,  balancing  the  parcel 
in  my  hand.  4 There  is  no  answer/  said  I,  aloud,  to  the 
waiter,  who  stood  as  if  expecting  one. 

44  4 The  servant  wishes  to  have  some  acknowledgment  in 
writing,  sir,  that  it  has  been  delivered  into  your  own  hands/ 

4 4 4 Send  him  here,  then/  said  I. 

44  Jepson  entered;  4 Well,  George,  your  parcel  is  all  right, 
and  here  is  a Napoleon  to  drink  my  health.’ 

44  Scarcely  had  the  .servants  left  the  room,  when  Mary, 
whose  curiosity  was  fully  roused,  rushed  over,  and  tried  to 
get  the  packet  from  me;  after  a short  struggle  I yielded,  and 


43* 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


she  flew  to  the  end  of  the  room,  and  tearing  open  the  Seals, 
% several  papers  fell  to  the  ground  ; before  I could  have  time 
to  snatch  them  up  she  had  read  some  lines  written  on  the 
envelope,  and  turning  toward  me,  threw  her  arms  around  my 
neck,  and  said,  4 Yes,  Jack,  she  is,  indeed,  all  you  have  said; 
look  here  ; 3 I turned  and  read — with  what  feeling  I leave 
you  to  guess — the  following  : 

44  4 Dear  Nephew  and  Niece, — The  inclosed  will  convey 
to  you,  with  my  warmest  wishes  for  your  happiness,  a ticket 
on  the  Frankfort  lottery,  of  which  I inclose  the  scheme.  I 
also  take  the  opportunity  of  saying  that  I have  purchased  the 
Hungarian  pony  for  Mary — which  we  spoke  of  this  morning. 
It  is  at  Johnson’s  stable,  and  will  be  delivered  on  sending 
for  it.’ 

44  4 Think  of  that,  Jack,  the  Borghese  pony,  with  the  silky 
tail,  mine  ! Oh  ! what  a dear  good  old  soul ! It  was  the  very 
thing  of  all  others  I longed  for;  for  they  told  me  the  princess 
had  refused  every  offer  for  it.’ 

44  While  Mary  ran  on  in  this  strain,  I sat  mute  and  stupefied  ; 
the  sudden  reverse  my  hopes  had  sustained  deprived  me, 
for  a moment,  of  all  thought,  and  it  was  several  minutes 
before  I could  rightly  take  in  the  full  extent  of  my  misfor- 
tunes. 

44  How  that  crazy  old  maid, — for  such,  alas,  I called  her  to 
myself  now, — could  have  so  blundered  all  my  meaning — how 
she  could  so  palpably  have  mistaken,  I could  not  conceive  ; 
what  a remedy  for  a man  overwhelmed  with  debt — a ticket 
in  a German  lottery,  and  a cream-colored  pony,  as  if  my 
whole  life  had  not  been  one  continued  lottery,  with  every 
day  a blank  ; and  as  to  horses,  I had  eleven  in  my  stable 
already.  Perhaps  she  thought  twelve  would  read  better  in 
my  schedule,  when  I,  next  week,  surrendered  as  insolvent. 

44  Unable  to  bear  the  delight,  the  childish  delight  of  Mary, 
on  her  new  acquisition,  I rushed  out  of  the  house,  and 
wandered  for  several  hours  in  the  Boulevards.  At  last  I 
summoned  up  courage  to  tell  my  wife.  I once  more  turned 
toward  home,  and  entered  her  dressing-room,  where  she  was 
having  her  hair  dressed  for  a ball  at  the  Embassy.  My 
resolution  failed  me — not  now,  thought  I — to-morrow  will  do 
as  well  ; one  night  more  of  happiness  for  her,  and  then — I 
looked  on  with  pleasure  and  pride,  as  ornament  after  orna* 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


439 


ment,  brilliant  with  diamonds  and  emeralds,  shone  in  her 
hair,  and  upon  her  arms,  still  heightening  her  beauty,  and 
lighting  up  with  a dazzling  brilliancy  her  lovely  figure.  But 
it  must  come — and  whenever  the  hour  arrives — the  reverse 
will  be  fully  as  bitter  ; besides,  I am  able  now — and  when 
I may  again  be  so,  who  can  tell  ? — now,  then,  be  it,  said  I, 
as  I told  the  waiting-maid  to  retire  ; and  taking  a chair  beside 
my  wife,  put  my  arm  around  her. 

“ 4 There,  John,  dearest,  take  care  ; don’t  you  see  you’ll 
crush  all  that  great  affair  of  Malines  lace  that  Rosetta  has 
been  breaking  her  heart  to  manage  this  half-hour. 

“ 4 Et  puis,’  said  I. 

44  4 Et  puis,  I could  not  go  to  the  ball,  naughty  boy.  I 
am  bent  on  great  conquest  to-night ; so  pray  don’t  mar  such 
good  intentions.’ 

44  4 And  you  should  be  greatly  disappointed  were  you  not 
to  go  ? ’ 

44  4 Of  course  I should  ; but  what  do  you  mean  ; is  there 
any  reason  why  I should  not  ? You  are  silent,  John — speak 
— oh,  speak — has  anything  occurred  to  my ’ 

44  4 No,  no,  dearest — nothing  that  I know  has  occurred  to 
the  Colonel.’ 

44  4 Well,  then,  who  is  it  ? Oh,  tell  me  at  once.’ 

44  4 Oh,  my  dear,  there’s  no  one  in  the  case  but  ourselves  ; 1 
so  saying,  despite  the  injunction  about  the  lace,  I drew  her 
toward  me,  and  in  as  few  words,  but  as  clearly  as  I was  able, 
explained  all  our  circumstances — my  endeavor  to  better 
them — my  hopes — my  fears — and  now  my  bitter  disappoint- 
ment, if  not  despair. 

44  The  first  shock  over,  Mary  showed  not  only  more  cour- 
age, but  more  sound  sense  than  I could  have  believed. 
All  the  frivolity  of  her  former  character  vanished  at  the  first 
touch  of  adversity  ; just  as  of  old,  Harry,  we  left  the  tinsel  of 
our  gay  jackets  behind,  when  active  service  called  upon  us 
for  something  more  sterling.  She  advised,  counselled,*  and 
encouraged  rpe  by  turns;  and  in  half  an  hour  the  most 
poignant  regret  I had  was  in  not  having  sooner  made  her 
my  confidante  and  checked  the  progress  of  our  enormous 
expenditure  somewhat  earlier. 

44 1 shall  not  detain  you  much  longer.  In  three  weeks 
we  sold  our  carriages  and  horses  ; our  pictures  (we  had  begun 
this  among  other  extravagances)  and  our  china  followed  j 
and  under  the  plea  of  health  set  out  for  Baden ; not  on<i 


440 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


among  our  Paris  acquaintances  ever  suspecting  the  real 
reason  of  our  departure,  and  never  attributing  any  moneyed 
difficulties  to  us — for  we  paid  our  debts. 

“ The  same  day  we  left  Paris,  I dispatched  a letter  to  my 
aunt,  explaining  fully  all  about  us,  and  suggesting- that  as  I 
had  now  left  the  army  forever,  perhaps  she  would  interest 
some  of  her  friends — and  she  has  powerful  ones — to  do  some- 
thing for  me. 

“ After  some  little  loitering  on  the  Rhine,  we  fixed  upon 
Hesse  Cassel  for  our  residence.  It  was  very  quiet — very 
cheap.  The  country  around  picturesque,  and  last  but  not 
least,  there  was  not  an  Englishman  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  second  week  after  our  arrival,  brought  us  letters  from  my 
aunt.  She  had  settled  four  hundred  al  year  upon  us  for  the 
present,  and  sent  the  first  year  in  advance ; promised  us  a 
visit  as  soon  as  we  were  ready  to  receive  her  ; and  pledged 
herself  not  to  forget  when  an  opportunity  of  serving  me 
should  offer. 

“ From  that  moment  to  this,”  said  Jack,  “ all  has  gone  well 
with  us.  We  have,  it  is  true,  not  many  luxuries,  but  we  have 
no  wants,  and,  better  still,  no  debts.  The  dear  old  aunt  is 
always  making  us  some  little  present  or  other ; and  some- 
how I have  a kind  of  feeling  that  better  luck  is  Still  in  store  ; 
but  faith,  Harry,  as  long  as  I have  a happy  home,  and  a warm 
fireside,  for  a friend  when  he  drops  in  upon  me,  I scarcely 
can  say  that  better  luck  need  be  wished  for.” 

“ There  is  only  one  point,  Jack,  you  have  not  enlightened 
me  upon,  how  came  you  here  ? You  are  some  hundred  miles 
from  Hesse,  in  your  present  chateau.” 

“ Oh  1 by  Jove,  that  was  a great  omission  in  my  narrative  ; 
but  come,  this  will  explain  it ; see  here  : ” so  saying,  he  drew 
from  a little  drawer  a large  lithographic  print  of  a magnifi- 
cent castellated  building,  with  towers  and  bastions,  keep, 
moat,  and  even  drawbridge,  and  the  walls  bristling  with 
cannon,  and  an  eagled  banner  floating  proudly  above  them. 

“What  in  the  naftie  of  the  Sphynxes  is  this  ? ” 

“There,”  said  Jack,  “is  the  Schloss  von  Eberhausen  ; or? 
if  you  like  it  in  English,  Eberhausen  Castle,  as  it  was  in  the 
year  of  the  deluge  ; for  the  present  mansion  that  we  are  now 
sipping  our  wine  in  bears  no  very  close  resemblance  to  it. 
But  to  make  the  mystery  clear,  this  )vas  the  great  prize  in 
the  Frankfort  lottery,  the  ticket  of  which  my  aunt's  first  note 
contained,  and  which  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  win,  We 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


441 


have  only  been  here  a few  weeks,  and  though  the  affair  looks 
somewhat  meagre,  we  have  hopes  that  in  a little  time,  and 
with  some  pains,  much  may  be  done  to  make  it  habitable. 
There  is  a capital  chasse  of  some  hundred  acres,  plenty  of 
wood  and  innumerable  rights,  seignorial,  manorial,  etc.,  which, 
fortunately  for  my  neighbors,  I neither  understand  nor  care 
for;  and  we  are,  therefore,  the  best  friends  in  the  world. 
Among  others  I am  styled  the  graf  or  count ” 

“ Well,  then,  Monsieur  Le  Comte,  do  you  intend  favoring 
me  with  your  company  at  coffee  this  evening  ? for  already  it 
is  ten  o’clock ; and  considering  my  former  claim  upon  Mr. 
Lorrequer,  you  have  let  me  enjoy  very  little  of  his  society.” 

We  now  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  where  we  gossiped 
away  till  past  midnight ; and  I retired  to  my  room,  meditat- 
ing over  Jack’s  adventures,  and  praying  in  my  heart  that, 
despite  all  his  mischances,  my  own  might  end  as  happily. 


CHAPTER  LI I. 

MUNICH. 

The  rest  and  quietness  of  the  preceding  day  had  so  far 
recovered  me  from  the  effects  of  my  accident  that  I resolved, 
as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  to  take  my  leave  of  my  kind 
friends  and  set  out  for  Munich. 

“ We  shall  meet  to-night,  Harry,”  said  Waller,  as  we  parted 
— “we  shall  meet  at  the  Casino — and  don’t  forget  that  the 
Croix  Blanche  is  your  hotel ; and  Schnetz,  the  tailor  in  the 
Grand  Place,  will  provide  you  with  everything  you  need  in 
the  way  6f  dress.” 

This  latter  piece  of  information  was  satisfactory,  inasmuch 
as  the  greater  part  of  my  luggage,  containing  my  uniform,  etc., 
had  been  left  in  the  French  diligence  ; and  as  the  ball  was 
patronized  by  the  court,  I was  greatly  puzzled  how  to  make 
my  appearance. 

Bad  roads  and  worse  horses  made  me  feel  the  few  leagues 
I had  to  go  the  most  tiresome  part  of  my  journey.  But,  of 
course,  in  this  feeling  impatience  had  its  share.  A few  hours 
more,  and  my  fate  should  be  decided ; and  yet  I thought  the 
time  would  never  come.  If  the  Callonbys  should  not  arrive 
if,  again,  my  evil  star  be  in  the  ascendant,  and  any  new 


442 


HARRY  L OR  RE  Q U Eli.. 


impediment  to  our  meeting  arise — but  I cannot,  will  not, 
think  this.  Fortune  must  surely  be  tired  of  persecuting  me 
by  this  time,  and,  even  to  sustain  her  old  character  for  fickle- 
ness, must  befriend  me  now.  Ah  ! here  we  are  in  Munich 
—and  this  is  the  Croix  Blanche — what  a dingy  old  mansion  ! 
Beneath  a massive  porch,  supported  by  heavy  stone  pillars, 
stood  the  stout  figure  of  Andreas  Behr,  the  host.  A white 
napkin,  fastened  in  one  buttonhole,  and  hanging  gracefully 
down  beside  him — a soup-ladle  held  sceptre-wise  in  his  right 
hand,  and  the  grinding  motion  of  his  nether  jaw,  all  showed 
that  he  had  risen  from  his  table  d’hote  to  welcome  the  new 
arrival ; and  certainly,  if  noise  and  uproar  might  explain  the 
phenomenon,  the  clatter  of  my  equipage  over  the  pavement 
might  have  raised  the  dead. 

While  my  postilion  was  endeavoring  by  mighty  efforts,  with 
a heavy  stone,  to  turn  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  thus  liber- 
ate me  from  my  cage,  I perceived  that  the  host  came  forward 
and  said  something  to  him — on  replying  to  which  he  ceased 
his  endeavors  to  open  the  door,  and  looked  vacantly  about 
him.  Upon  this  I threw  down  the  sash,  and  called  out : 

“ I say,  is  not  this  the  Croix  Blanche  ? ” 

“ Ya,”  said  the  man-mountain  with  the  napkin. 

“ Well,  then,  open  the  door,  pray — I’m  going  to  stop  here.” 

“ Nein.” 

“ No  ! What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? Has  not  Lord  Cal- 
lonby  engaged  rooms  here  ?” 

“ Ya.” 

“ Well,  then,  I am  a particular  friend  of  his,  and  will  stay 
here  also.” 

“ Nein.” 

“ What  the  devil  are  you  at,  with  your  ya  and  nein  ? ” said 
I.  “ Has  your  confounded  tongue  nothing  better  than  a 
monosyllable  to  reply  with.” 

Whether  disliking  the  tone  the  controversy  was  assuming, 
or  remembering  that  his  dinner  waited,  I know  not,  but  at 
these  words  my  fat  friend  turned  leisurely  round,  and  wad- 
dled back  into  the  house ; where,  in  a moment  after,  I had 
the  pleasure  of  beholding  him  at  the  head  of  a long  table, 
distributing  viands  with  a very  different  degree  of  activity 
from  what  he  displayed  in  dialogue. 

With  one  vigorous  jerk,  I dashed  open  the  door,  upsetting, 
at  the  same  time,  the  poor  postilion,  who  had  recommenced 
his  operations  on  the  lock,  and,  foaming  with  passion,  strode 


BARRY  LORREQUER. 


443 


into  the  “ salle  k manger.”  Nothing  is  such  an  immediate 
damper  to  any  sudden  explosion  of  temper,  as  the  placid  and 
unconcerned  faces  of  a number  of  people,  who,  ignorant  of 
yourself  and  your  peculiar  miseries  at  the  moment,  seem  only 
to  regard  you  as  a madman.  This  I felt  strongly,  as,  flushed 
in  face  and  tingling  in  my  fingers,  I entered  the  room. , 

“ Take  my  luggage,”  said  I to  a gaping  waiter,  “ and  place 
a chair  there ; do  you  hear  ? ” 

There  seemed,  I suppose,  something  in  my  looks  that  did 
not  admit  of  much  parley,  for  the  man  made  room  for  me  at 
once  at  the  table,  and  left  the  room,  as  if  to  discharge  the 
other  part  of  my  injunction,  without  saying  a word.  As  I 
arranged  my  napkin  before  me,  I was  collecting  my  energies 
and  my  German,  as  well  as  I was  able,  for  the  attack  of  the 
host,  which  I anticipated,  from  his  recent  conduct,  must  now 
ensue ; but,  greatly  to  my  surprise,  he  sent  me  my  soup 
without  a word,  and  the  dinner  went  on  without  any  interrup- 
tion. When  the  dessert  had  made  its  appearance,  I beck- 
oned the  waiter  toward  me,  and  asked  what  the  landlord 
meant  by  his  singular  reception  of  me.  The  man  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  and  raised  his  eyebrows  without  speaking,  as 
if  to  imply,  “ It’s  his  way.” 

“ Well,  then,  no  matter,”  said  I * “ Have  you  sent  my 

luggage  upstairs  ? ” 

“ No,  sir,  there  is  no  room — the  house  is  full.” 

“ The  house  full ! Confound  it ! — this  is  too  provoking.  I 
have  most  urgent  reasons  for  wishing  to  stay  here.  Cannot 
you  make  some  arrangement  ? — see  about  it,  waiter.”  I here 
slipped  a Napoleon  into  the  fellow’s  hand,  and  hinted  that 
as  much  more  awaited  the  finale  of  the  negotiation. 

In  about  a minute  after,  I perceived  him  behind  the  host’s 
chair,  pleading  my  cause  with  considerable  energy  ; but  to 
my  complete  chagrin,  I heard  the  other  answer  all  his 
eloquence  by  a loud  “ Nein,”  that  he  grunted  out  in  such  a 
manner  as  closed  the  conference. 

“ I cannot  succeed,  sir,”  said  the  man,  as  he  paused 
behind  me  : “ but  don’t  leave  the  house  till  I speak  with  you 
again.” 

“What  confoupded  mystery  is  there  in  all  this  ? ” thought 
I.  “ Is  there  anything  so  suspicious  in  my  look  or  appear- 
ance that  the  old  bear  in  the  fur  cap  will  not  even  admit  me  ? 
What  can  it  all  mean  ? One  thing  I am  resolved  upon — * 
nothing  less  than  force  shall  remove  me.” 


444 


HARRY  LORRE  Qt/ER . 


So  saying,  I lit  my  cigar,  and  in  order  to  give  the  waiter 
an  opportunity  of  conferring  with  me  unobserved  by  his 
master,  walked  out  into  the  porch  and  sat  down. 

In  a few  minutes  he  joined  me,  and  after  a stealthy  look 
on  each  side,  said  : 

“ The  Herr  Andreas  is  a hard  man  to  deal  with,  and  when 
he  says  a thing,  never  goes  back  of  it.  Now  he  has  been 
expecting  the  new  English  Charge  d’Affaires  here  these  last 
ten  days,  and  has  kept  the  hotel  half  empty  in  consequence  : 
and  as  mi  Lor  Callonby  has  engaged  the  other  half,  why  we 
have  nothing  to  do  ; so  that  when  he  asked  the  postilion  if 
you  were  mi  lor,  and  found  that  you  were  not,  he  determined 
not  to  admit  you.” 

“ But  why  not  have  the  civility  to  explain  that  ? ” 

“ He  seldom  speaks,  and  when  he  does,  only  a word  or 
two  at  a time.  He  is  quite  tired  with  what  he  has  gone 
through  to-day,  and  will  retire  very  early  to  bed  ; and  for 
this  reason  I have  requested  you  to  remain,  for  as  he  never 
ventures  upstairs,  I will  then  manage  to  give  you  one  of  the 
ambassador’s  rooms,  which,  even  if  he  come,  he’ll  never  miss. 
So  that  if  you  keep  quiet,  and  do  not  attract  any  particular 
attention  toward  you,  all  will  go  well.” 

This  advice  seemed  so  reasonable,  that  I determined  to 
follow  it,  any  inconvenience  being  preferable,  provided  I 
could  be  under  the  same  roof  with  my  beloved  Jane;  and 
from  the  waiter’s  account,  there  seemed  no  doubt  whatever 
of  their  arrival  that  evening.  In  order,  therefore,  to  Jollow 
his  injunctions  to  the  letter,  I strolled  out  toward  the  Place 
in  search  of  a tailor,  and  also  to  deliver  a letter  from  Waller 
to  the  chamberlain,  to  provide  me  with  a card  for  the  ball. 
Monsieur  Schnetz,  who  was  the  very  pinnacle  of  politeness, 
was,  nevertheless,  in  fact,  nearly  as  untraetable  as  my  host 
of  the  “Cross.”  All  his  “sujets”  were  engaged  in  prepar- 
ing a suit  for  the  English  Charge  d’ Affaires,  whose  trunks 
had  been  sent  in  a wrong  direction,  and  who  had  dispatched 
a courier  from  Frankfort  to  order  a uniform.  This  second 
thwarting,  and  from  the  same  source,  so  nettled  me,  that  I 
greatly  fear  all  my  respect  for  the  Foreign  Office,  and  those 
who  live  thereby,  would  not  have  saved  them  from  some- 
thing most  unlike  a blessing,  had  not  Monsieur  Schnetz  saved 
diplomacy  from  such  a desecration  by  saying,  that  if  I could 
content  myself  with  a plain  suit,  such  as  civilians  wore,  he 
would  do  his  endeavor  to  accommodate  me. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


44  S 


“ Anything,  Monsieur  Schnetz — dress  me  like  the  Pope’s 
Nuncio,  or  the  Mayor  of  London,  if  you  like,  but  only  enable 
me  to  go.” 

Although  my  reply  did  not  seem  to  convey  a very  exalted 
idea  of  my  taste  in  costume  to  the  worthy  artiste,  it  at  least 
evinced  my  anxiety  for  the  ball ; and  running  his  measure 
over  me,  he  assured  me  that  the  dress  he  would  provide  was 
both  well  looking  and  becoming  ; adding,  a At  nine  o’clock, 
sir,  you’ll  have  it,  exactly  the  same  size  as  his  excellency 
the  Charge  d’Affaires.” 

“ Confound  the  (Jhargd  d’Affaires ! ” I added,  and  left  the 
house. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

INN  AT  MUNICH. 

As  I had  never  been  in  Munich  before,  I strolled  about 
the  town  till  dusk.  At  that  time  the  taste  of  the  present  king 
had  not  enriched  the  capital  with  the  innumerable  objects  of 
art  which  render  it  now  second  to  none  in  Europe.  There 
were,  indeed,  then  but  few  attractions — narrow  streets,  tall, 
unarchitectural-looking  houses,  and  gloomy,  unimpressive 
churches.  Tired  of  this,  I turned  toward  my  inn,  wondering 
in  my  mind  if  Antoine  had  succeeded  in  procuring  me  the 
room,  or  whether  yet  I should  be  obliged  to  seek  my  lodging 
elsewhere.  Scarcely  had  I entered  the  porch,  when  I found 
him  waiting  my  arrival,  candle  in  hand.  He  conducted  me 
at  once  up  the  wide  oaken  stair,  then  along  the  gallery,  into 
a large  wainscoted  room,  with  a most  capacious  bed.  A 
cheerful  wood-fire  burned  and  crackled  away  in  the  grate, 
the  cloth  was  already  spread  for  supper  (remember  it  was  in 
Germany),  the  newspapers  of  the  day  were  placed  before  me, 
and,  in  a word,  every  attention  showed  that  I had  found  the 
true  avenue  to  Antoine’s  good  graces,  who  now  stood  bowing 
before  me,  in  apparent  ecstasy  at  his  own  cleverness. 

“ All  very  well  done,  Antoine,  and  now  for  supper — order 
it  yourself  for  me,  I never  can  find  my  way  in  a German 
4 carte  de  diner;  * and  be  sure  to  have  a fiacre  here  at  nine, 
nine  precisely.” 

Antoine  withdrew,  leaving  me  to  my  own  reflections,  which 
pow,  if  not  gloomy,  were  still  of  the  most  anxious  kind 


446  HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 

Scarcely  was  the  supper  placed  upon  the  table,  when  a 
tremendous  tramping  of  horses  along  the  street,  and  loud 
cracking  of  whips,  announced  a new  arrival. 

“ Here  they  are,”  said  I,  as,  springing  up,  I upset  the 
soup,  and  nearly  threw  the  roti  into  Antoine’s  face,  as  he  was 
putting  it  before  me. 

Downstairs  I rushed,  through  the  hall,  pushing  aside 
waiters  and  overturning  chambermaids  in  my  course.  The 
carriage  was  already  at  the  door.  Now  for  a surprise, 
thought  I,  as  I worked  through  the  crowd  in  the  porch,  and 
reached  the  door  just  as  the  steps  were  clattered  down,  and 
a gentleman  began  to  descend,  whom  twenty  expectant  voices, 
now  informed  of  his  identity,  welcomed  as  the  new  Charge 
d’  Affaires. 

“ May  all  the ” 

What  I wished  for  his  excellency  it  would  not  be  polite  to 
repeat,  nor  most  discreet  even  to  remember ; but,  certes,  I 
mounted  the  stairs  with  as  little  good-will  toward  the  envoy 
extraordinary  as  was  consistent  with  due  loyalty. 

When  once  more  in  my  room,  I congratulated  myself  that 
now  at  least  no  more  “ false  stars  ” could  occur — “ the  eternal 
Charge  d’ Affaires,  of  whom  I have  been  hearing  since  my 
arrival,  cannot  come  twice — he  is  here  now,  and  I hope  I’m 
done  with  him.” 

The  supper — some  greasings  apart — was  good  ; the  wine 
excellent.  My  spirits  were  gradually  rising,  and  I paced  my 
room  in  that  mingled  state  of  hope  and  fear,  that,  amid  all  its 
anxieties,  has  such  moments  of  ecstasy.  A new  noise  with- 
out— some  rabble  in  the  street;  hark,  it  comes  nearer — I 
hear  the  sound  of  wheels ; yes,  there  go  the  horses — nearer 
and  nearer.  Ah,  it  is  dying  away  again — stay — yes,  yes — 
here  it  is — here  they  are.  The  noise  and  tumult  without 
now  increased  every  instant — the  heavy  trot  of  six  or  eight 
horses  shook  the  very  street,  and  I heard  the  round,  dull, 
rumbling  sound  of  a heavy  carriage,  as  it  drew  up  at  last  at 
the  door  of  the  inn.  Why  it  was  I knew  not,  but  this  time  I 
could  not  stir ; my  heart  beat  almost  loud  enough  for  me  to 
hear ; my  temples  throbbed,  and  then  a cold  and  clammy 
perspiration  came  over  me,  and  I sank  into  a chair.  Fearing 
that  I was  about  to  faint,  sick  as  I was,  I felt  angry  with 
myself,  and  tried  to  rally,  but  could  not,  and  only  at  length 
was  roused  by  hearing  that  the  steps  were  let  down,  and 


HARRY  L ORREQ  UER.  447 

shortly  after  the  tread  of  feet  coming  along  the  gallery  to- 
ward my  room. 

They  are  coming — she  is  coming,  thought  I.  Now  then 
for  my  doom  ! 

There  was  some  noise  of  voices  outside  ! I listened,  for 
I still  felt  unable  to  rise.  The  talking  grew  louder  ; doors 
were  opened  and  ^hut ; then  came  a lull ; then  more  slamming 
of  doors,  and  more  talking ; then  all  was  still  again  ; and  at 
last  I heard  the  steps  of  people  as  if  retiring,  and  in  a few 
minutes  after  the  carriage  door  was  jammed  to,  and  again 
the  heavy  tramp  of  horses  rattled  over  the  pave.  At  this 
instant  Antoine  entered. 

“ Well,  Antoine,”  said  I,  in  a voice  trembling  with  weak- 
ness and  agitation,  “ not  them  yet  ? ” 

“ It  was  his  Grace  the  Grand  Marechal,”  said  Antoine, 
scarcely  heeding  my  question,  in  the  importance  of  the 
illustrious  visitor  who  had  arrived. 

“ Ah,  the  Grand  Marechal,”  said  I,  carelessly  ; “ does  he 
live  here  ? ” 

“ Sapperment  nein,  Mein  Herr  ; but  he  has  just  been  to  pry 
his  respects  to  his  excellency  the  new  Charge  d’Affaires.” 

In  the  name  of  all  patience,  I ask,  who  could  endure  this? 
From  the  hour  of  my  arrival  I am  haunted  by  this  one  image 
— the  Charge  d’Affaires.  For  him  I have  been  almost  con- 
demned to  go  houseless  and  naked  ; and  now  the  very  most 
sacred  feelings  of  my  heart  are  subject  to  his  influence.  I 
walked  up  and  down  in  an  agony.  Another  such  disappoint- 
ment, and  my  brain  will  turn,  thought  I,  and  they  may  write 
my  epitaph — “ Died  of  love  and  a Charge  d’Affaires/ ’ 

“ It  is  time  to  dress,”  said  the  waiter. 

* I could  strangle  him  with  my  own  hands,”  muttered  I, 
worked  up  into  a real  heat  by  the  excitement  of  my  passion. 

“ The  Charge- ” 

“ Say  that  name  again,  villain,  and  I’ll  blow  your  brains 
out,”  cried  I,  seizing  Antoine  by  the  throat,  and  pinning  him 
against  the  wall ; “ only  dare  to  mutter  it,  and  you’ll  never 
breathe  another  syllable.” 

The  poor  fellow  grew  green  with  terror,  and  fell  upon  his 
knees  before  me. 

“ Get  my  dressing  things  ready,”  said  I,  in  a more  subdued 
tone.  “ I did  not  mean  to  terrify  you — but  beware  of  what 
I told  you.” 

While  Antoine  occupied  himself  with  the  preparations  for 


44&  HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER. 

my  toilet  I sat  broodingly  over  the  wood  embers,  thinking  of 
my  fate. 

A knock  came  to  the  door.  It  was  the  tailor’s  servant 
with  my  clothes.  He  laid  down  the  parcel  and  retired,  while 
Antoine  proceeded  to  open  it,  and  exhibit  before  me  a blue 
uniform  with  embroidered  collar  and  cuffs— the  whole,  with- 
out being  gaudy,  being  sufficiently  handsome,  and  quite  as 
showy  as  I could  wish. 

..The  poor  waiter  expressed  his  unqualified  approval  of 
the  costume,  and  talked  away  about  the  approaching  ball  as 
something  pre-eminently  magnificent. 

aYou  had  better  look  after  the  fiacre,  Antoine,”  said  I ; 
“ it  is  past  nine.” 

He  walked  toward  the  door,  opened  it,  and  then,  .turning 
round,  said,  in  a kind  of  low,  confidential  whisper,  pointing 
with  the  thumb  of  his  left  hand  towards  the  wall  of  the  room 
as  he  spoke  : 

“ He  won’t  go  ; very  strange  that.” 

“ Who  do  you  mean  ? ” said  I,  quite  unconscious  of  the 
allusion. 

“ The  Charge  d’Aff ” 

I made  one  spring  at  him,  but  he  slammed  the  door  to, 
and  before  I could  reach  the  lobby  I heard  him  rolling  from 
top  to  bottom  of  the  oak  staircase,  making  noise  enough  in 
his  fall  to  account  for  the  fracture  of  every  bone  in  his 
body. 


CHAPTER  LIY. 

THE  BALL. 

As  I was  informed  that  the  king  would  himself  be  present 
at  the  ball,  I knew  that  German  etiquette  required  that  the 
company  should  arrive  before  his  majesty  ; and  although 
now  and  every  minute  I expected  the  arrival  of  the  Callonbys, 
I dared  not  defer  my  departure  any  longer. 

44  They  are  certain  to  be  at  the  ball,”  said  Waller,  and 
that  sentence  never  left  my  mind. 

So  saying,  I jumped  into  the  fiacre,  and  in  a few  minutes 
found  myself  in  the  long  line  of  carriages  that  led  to  the 
44  Hof  saal.”  Any  one  who  has  been  in  Munich  will  testify 
with  me  that  the  ball-room  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


449 


Europe,  and  to  me,  who  for  some  time  had  not  been  living 
much  in  the  world,  its  splendor  was  positively  dazzling.  The 
glare  of  the  chandeliers — the  clang  of  the  music — the  mag- 
nificence of  the  dresses — the  beauty  of  the  Bavarian  women, 
too,  all  surprised  and  amazed  me.  There  were  several  hun- 
dred people  present,  but  the  king  not  having  yet  arrived, 
dancing  had  not  commenced.  Feeling  as  I then  did,  it  was 
rather  a relief  to  me  than  otherwise  that  I knew  no  one. 
There  was  quite  amusement  enough  in  walking  through  the 
saloons,  observing  the  strange  costumes,  and  remarking  the 
various  groups  as  they  congregated  around  the  trays  of  ices 
and  the  champagne  glacee.  The  buzz  of  talking  and,  the 
sounds  of  laughter  and  merriment  prevailed  over  even  the 
orchestra;  and,  as  the  gay  crowds  paraded  the  rooms,  all 
seemed  pleasure  and  excitement.  Suddenly  a tremendous 
noise  was  heard  without — then  came  a loud  roll  of  the  drums, 
which  lasted  for  several  seconds,  and  the  clank  of  musketry 
— then  a cheer — it  is  the  king. 

“ The  king!”  resounded  on  all  sides;  and  in  another 
moment  the  large  folding-doors  at  the  end  of  the  saal  were 
thrown  open,  and  the  music  struck  up  the  national  anthem 
of  Bavaria. 

His  majesty  entered,  accompanied  by  the  queen,  Ids 
brother,  two  or  three  archduchesses,  and  a long  suite  of 
officers. 

I could  not  help  remarking  upon  the  singular  good  taste 
with  which  the  assembly — all  anxious  and  eager  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  majesty — behaved  on  this  occasion.  There 
was  no  pressing  forward  to  the  “estrade  ” where  he  stood— 
no  vulgar  curiosity  evinced  by  any  one,  but  the  group  con- 
tinued, as  before,  to  gather  and  scatter.  The  only  difference 
being,  that  the  velvet  chair  and  cushion,  which  had  attracted 
some  observers  before,  were  now,  that  they  were  tenanted  by 
royalty,  passed  with  a deep  and  respectful  salutation.  How 
proper  this,  thought  I,  and  what  an  inducement  for  a monarch 
to  come  among  his  people,  who  remember  to  receive  him 
with  such  true  politeness  ! While  these  thoughts  were  pass- 
ing through  my  mind,  as  I was  leaning  against  a pillar  that 
supported  the  gallery  of  the  orchestra,  a gentleman  whose 
dress,  covered  with  gold  and  embroidery,  bespoke  him  as 
belonging  to  the  court,  eyed  me  aside  with  his  lorgnette,  and 
then  passed  rapidly  on.  A quadrille  was  now  forming  near 
me,  and  I was  watching,  with  some  interest,  the  proceeding, 


45° 


HARRY  L ORREQ UER. 


when  the  same  figure  that  I remarked  before  approached 
me,  bowing  deeply  at  every  step,  and  shaking  a very  halo  of 
powder  from  his  hair  at  each  reverence. 

“ May  I take  the  liberty  of  introducing  myself  to  you  ? ” 
said  he.  “ Le  Comte  Benningsen.”  Here  he  bowed  again, 
and  I returned  the  obeisance  still  deeper.  “ Regretted  much 
that  I was  not  fortunate  enough  to  make  your  acquaintance 
this  evening,  when  I called  upon  you.” 

“ Never  heard  of  that,”  said  I to  myself. 

“Your  excellency  arrived  this  evening?” 

“Yes,”  said  I,  “ only  a fewr  hours  since.” 

“ How  fond  these  Germans  are  of  titles,”  thought  I.  Re- 
membering that  in  Vienna  every  one  is  “ his  grace,”  I thought 
it  might  be  Bavarian  politeness  to  call  every  one  “ his  ex- 
cellency.” 

“ You  have  not  been  presented,  I believe  ? v 

“ No,”  said  I,  “ but  hope  to  make  an  early  opportunity  of 
paying  ‘ mes  hommages  ’ to  his  majesty.” 

“ I have  just  received  his  orders  to  present  you  now,” 
replied  he,  with  another  bow. 

“ The  devil  you  have,”  thought  1.  “ How  very  civil  that.” 

And  although  I had  heard  innumerable  anecdotes  of  the 
free-and-easy  habits  of  the  Bavarian  court,  this  certainly 
surprised  me,  so  that  I actually,  to  prevent  a blunder,  said, 
“Am  I to  understand  you,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  that  his 
majesty  was  graciously  pleased ” 

“ If  you  will  follow  me,”  replied  the  courtier,  motioning 
with  his  chapeau  ; and  in  another  moment  I was  elbowing 
my  way  through  the  mob  of  marquises  and  duchesses,  on  my 
way  to  the  raised  platform  where  the  king  was  standing. 

“ Heaven  grant  I have  not  misunderstood  all  he  has  been 
saying,”  was  my  last  thought  as  the  crowd  of  courtiers  fell 
back  on  either  side,  and  I found  myself  bowing  before  his 
majesty.  How  the  grand  marechal  entitled  me  I heard 
not ; but  when  the  king  addressed  me  immediately  in  Eng- 
lish, saying : 

“ I hope  your  excellency  has  had  a good  journey  ? ” 

I felt,  “ Come,  there  is  no  mistake  here,  Harry  ; and  it  is 
only  another  freak  of  fortune,  who  is  now  in  good-humor 
with  you.” 

The  king,  who  was  a fine,  tall,  well-built  man,  with  a large, 
bushy  mustache,  possessed,  though  not  handsome,  a most 
pleasing  expression  ; his  utterance  was  very  rapid,  and  his 


HARR  Y L ORREQUER . 45  r 

English  none  of  the  best;  so  that  it  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  I contrived  to  follow  his  questions,  which  came 
thick  as  hail  upon  me.  After  some  commonplaces  about  the 
roads,  the  weather,  and  the  season,  his  majesty  said  : 

“ My  Lord  Callonby  has  been  residing  some  time  here. 
You  know  him  ? ” And  then,  not  waiting  for  a reply,  added, 
“ Pleasant  persqn — well-informed — like  him  much,  and  his 
daughters  too,  how  handsome  they  are.”  Here  I blushed, 
and  felt  most  awkwardly,  while  the  king  continued  : 

“ Hope  they  will  remain  some  time — quite  an  ornament  to 
our  court.  Monsieur  le  Comte,  his  excellency  will  dance/’ 
I here  muttered  an  apology  about  my  sprained  ankle,  and 
the  king  turned  to  converse  with  some  of  the  ladies  of  the 
court.  His  majesty’s  notice  brought  several  persons  now 
around  me,  who  introduced  themselves  ; and,  in  a quarter  of 
an  hour,  I felt  myself  surrounded  by  acquaintances  each  vying 
with  the  other  in  showing  me  attention. 

Worse  places  than  Munich,  Master  Harry,  thought  I,  as  I 
chaperoned  a fat  duchess,  with  fourteen  quarterings,  toward 
the  refreshment-room,  and  had  just  accepted  invitations 
enough  to  occupy  me  three  weeks  in  advance. 

“ I have  been  looking  everywhere  for  your  excellency,” 
said  the  grand  marechal,  bustling  his  way  to  me,  breathless 
and  panting.  “ His  majesty  desires  you  will  make  one  of 
his  party  at  whist,  so  pray  come  at  once.” 

“ Figaro,  qua,  Figaro  la,”  muttered  I.  “ Never  was  man 
in  such  request.  God  grant  the  whole  royal  family  of  Bavaria 
be  not  mad,  for  this  looks  very  like  it.  Lady  Jane  had  better 
look  sharp,  for  I have  only  to  throw  my  eyes  on  an  arch- 
duchess, to  be  king  of  the  Tyrol  some  fine  morning.” 

“You  play  whist,  of  course;  every  Englishman  does,”  said 
the  king  ; “ you  shall  be  my  partner.” 

Our  adversaries  were  the  Phince  Maximilian,  brother  to 
his  majesty,  and  the  Prussian  ambassador.  As  I sat  down 
at  the  table,  I could  not  help  saying  in  my  heart,  “Now  is 
your  time,  Harry;  if  my  Lord  Callonby  should  see  you,  your 
fortune  is  made.”  Waller  passed  at  this  moment,  and  as  he 
saluted  the  king,  I saw  him  actually  start  with  amazement 
as  he  beheld  me — “ Better  fun  this  than  figuring  in  the  yellow 
plush,  Master  Jack,”  I muttered  as  he  passed  on,  actually 
thunderstruck  with  amazement.  But  the  game  was  begun, 
and  I was  obliged  to  be  attentive.  We  won  the  first  game, 
and  the  king  was  in  immense  good-humor  as  he  took  some 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


452 

franc  pieces  from  the  Prussian  minister,  who,  small  as  the 
stake  was,  seemed  not  to  relish  losing.  His  majesty  now 
complimented  me  upon  my  play,  and  was  about  to  add  some- 
thing when  he  perceived  some  one  in  the  crowd,  and  sent 
an  aid-de-camp  for  him. 

“ Ah,  my  lord,  we  expected  you  earlier,”  and  then  said 
some  words  in  too  low  a tone  for  me  to  bear,  motioning 
toward  me  as  he  spoke.  If  Waller  was  surprised  at  seeing 
me  where  I was,  it  was  nothing  to  the  effect  produced  upon 
the  present  party,  whom  I now  recognized  as  Lord  Calionby. 
Respect  for  the  presence  we  were  in  restrained  any  expres- 
sion on  either  side,  and  a more  ludicrous  tableau  than  we 
presented  can  scarcely  be  conceived.  What  I would  have 
given  that  the  whist  party  was  over,  I need  not  say,  and  cer- 
tainly his  majesty’s  eulogy  upon  my  play  came  too  soon,  for 
I was  now  so  “ distrait  and  unhinged,”  my  eyes  wandering 
from  the  table  to  see  if  Lady  Jane  was  near,  that  I lost  every 
trick,  and  finished  by  revoking.  The  king  rose  half  pettishly 
observing  that  “ Son  excellence  a apparement  perdu  la  tete,” 
and  I rushed  forward  to  shake  hands  with  Lord  Calionby, 
totally  forgetting  the  royal  censure  in  my  delight  at  discover- 
ing my  friend. 

“ Lorrequer,  I am  indeed  rejoiced  to  see  you,  and  when 
did  you  arrive  ? ” 

“ This  evening.” 

“ This  evening ! and  how  the  deuce  have  you  contrived 
already,  eh  ? Why,  you  seem  quite  chez  vous  here  ! ” 

“ You  shall  hear  all,”  said  I,  hastily  ; “ but  is  Lady  Calionby 
here  ? ” 

“ No  ; Kilkee  only  is  with  me  ; there  he  is  figuranting 
away  in  a galop.  The  ladies  were  too  tired  to  come,  particu- 
larly as  they  dine  at  court  to-morrow,  the  fatigue  would  be 
rather  much.” 

“ I have  his  majesty’s  orders  to  invite  your  excellency  to 
dinner  to-morrow,”  said  the  grand  marechal  coming  up  at 
this  |pstant. 

I ltowed  my  acknowledgments,  and  turned  again  to  Lord 
Calionby,  whose  surprise  now  seemed  to^Jiave  reached  its 
climax. 

“ Why,  Lorrequer,  I never  heard  of  this  ! When  did  you 
adopt  this  new  career  ? ” Not  understanding  the  gist  of  the 
question,  and  conceiving  that  it  applied  to  my  success  at 
court  I answered  at  random,  something  about  “ falling  upon 


HARR  Y LORREQUER. 


453 


my  legs,  good  luck,”  etc.,  and  once  more  returned  to  the 
charge,  inquiring  most  anxiously  for  Lady  Callonby’s  health. 

“ Ah  ! she  is  tolerably  well.  Jane  is  the  only  invalid,  but 
then  we  hope  Italy  will  restore  her.”  Just  at  this  instant, 
Kilkee  caught  my  eye,  and  rushing  over  from  his  place  be- 
side his  partner,  shook  me  by  both  hands,  saying : 

“ Delighted  to  see  you  here,  Lorrequer,  but  as  I can’t  stay 
now,  promise  to  sup  with  me  to-night  at  the  ‘ Cross.’  ” 

I accepted,  of  course,  and  the  next  instant  he  was  whirling 
along  in  his  waltz,  with  one  of  the  most  lovely  German  girls 
I ever  saw.  Lord  Callonby  saw  my  admiration  of  her,  and 
as  it  were  replying  to  my  gaze,  remarked : 

“ Yes,  very  handsome,  indeed,  but  really  Kilkee  is  going 
too  far  with  it.  I rely  upon  you  very  much  to  reason  him 
out  of  his  folly,  and  we  have  all  agreed  that  you  have  the 
most  influence  over  him,  and  are  most  likely  to  be  listened  to 
patiently.” 

Here  was  a new  character  assigned  me,  the  confidential 
friend  and  adviser  of  the  family,  trusted  with  a most  delicate 
and  important  secret,  likely  to  bring  me  into  most  intimate 
terms  of  intercourse  with  them  all,  for  the  “we”  of  Lord  Cal- 
lonby bespoke  a family  consultation,  in  which  I was  deputed 
as  the  negotiator.  I at  once  promised  my  assistance,  saying 
at  the  same  time,  that  if  Kilkee  really  was  strongly  attached, 
and  had  also  reason  to  suppose  that  the  lady  liked  him,  it  was 
not  exactly  fair ; that,  in  short,  if  the  matter  had  gone  beyond 
flirtation,  any  interference  of  mine  would  be  imprudent,  if 
not  impertinent.  Lord  Callonby  smiled  slightly  as  he  replied  : 

“ Quite  right,  Lorrequer,  I am  just  as  much  against  con- 
straint as  yourself,  if  only  no  great  barriers  exist ; but  here, 
with  a difference  of  religion,  country,  language,  habits,  in 
fact,  everything  that  can  create  disparity,  the  thing  is  not  to 
be  thought  of.” 

I suspected  that  his  lordship  read  in  my  partial  defence  of 
Kilkee  a slight  attempt  to  prop  up  my  own  case,  and  felt 
confused  and  embarrassed  beyond  measure  at  the  detection. 

“ Well,  we  shall  have  time  enough  for  all  this.  Now,  let 
us  hear  something  of  my  old  friend  Sir  Guy.  How  is  he 
looking  ? ” 

“ I am  unfortunately  unable  to  give  you  any  account  of 
him.  I left  Paris  the  very  day  before  he  was  expected  to 
arrive  there.” 

“Oh,  then,  I have  all  the  news  myself  in  that  case,  for  in 


454 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


his  letter,  which  I received  yesterday,  he  mentions  that  we 
are  not  to  expect  him  before  Tuesday.” 

“ Expect  him  ! Is  he  coming  here,  then  ? ” 

“ Yes.  Why,  I thought  you  were  aware  of  that ; he  has 
been  long  promising  to  pay  us  a visit,  and  at  last,  by  great 
persuasion,  we  have  succeeded  in  getting  him  across  the  sea, 
and,  indeed,  were  it  not  that  he  was  coming,  we  should  have 
been  in  Florence  before  this.” 

A gleam  of  hope  shot  through  my  heart  as  I said  to  myself, 
what  can  this  visit  mean  ? and  the  moment  after  I felt  sick, 
almost  to  fainting,  as  I asked  if  “ my  cousin  Guy  were  also 
expected.” 

“ Oh,  yes.  We  shall  want  him,  I should  think,”  said  Lord 
Callonby,  with  a very  peculiar  smile. 

I thought  I should  have  fallen  at  these  few  words.  Come, 
Harry,  thought  I,  it  is  better  to  learn  your  fate  at  once. 
Now  or  never  ; death  itself  were  preferable  to  this  continued 
suspense.  If  the  blow  is  to  fall,  it  can  scarcely  sink  me 
lower  than  I now  feel : so  reasoning,  I laid  my  hand  upon 
Lord  Callonby’s  arm,  and  with  a face  as  pale  as  death,  and 
a voice  all  inarticulate,  said  : 

“ My  lord,  you  will  pardon,  I am  sure ” 

“ My  dear  Lorrequer,”  said  his  lordship,  interrupting  me, 
“for  heaven’s  sake,  sit  down.  How  ill  you  are  looking,  we 
must  nurse  you,  my  poor  fellow.” 

I sank  upon  a bench — the  light  danced  before  my  eyes — 
the  clang  of  the  music  sounded  like  the  roar  of  a waterfall, 
and  I felt  a cold  perspiration  burst  over  my  face  and  fore- 
head ; at  the  same  instant,  I recognized  Kilkee’s  voice,  and 
without  well  knowing  why,  or  how,  discovered  myself  in  the 
open  air. 

“ Come,  you  are  better  now,”  said  Kilkee,  “ and  will  be 
quite  well  when  you  get  some  supper,  and  a little  of  the 
Tokay  his  majesty  has  been  good  enough  to  send  us.” 

“ His  majesty  desires  to  know  if  his  excellency  is  better,” 
said  an  aid-de-camp. 

I muttered  my  most  grateful  acknowledgments. 

“ One  of  the  court  carriages  is  in  waiting  for  your  excel- 
lency,” said  a venerable  old  gentleman  in  a tie  wig,  whom  I 
recognized  as  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs — as  he  added 
in  a lower  tone  to  Lord  Callonby,  “ I fear  he  has  been  greatly 
overworked  lately — his  exertions  on  the  subject  of  the  Greek 
loan  are  well-known  to  his  majesty.” 


HARR  V LORREQUEK.  455 

“ Indeed,”  said  Lord  Callonby,  with  a start  of  surprise,  “ I 
never  heard  of  that  before.” 

If  it  had  not  been  for  that  start  of  amazement,  I should 
have  died  of  terror.  It  was  the  only  thing  that  showed  me 
I was  not  out  of  my  senses,  which  I now  concluded  the  old 
gentleman  must  be,  for  I never  had  heard  of  the  Greek  loan 
in  my  life  before. 

a Farewell,  mon  cher  colleague,”  said  the  venerable  minis- 
ter, as  I got  into  the  carriage,  wondering,  as  well  I might, 
what  singular  band  of  brotherhood  united  one  of  his  majes- 
ty’s — th  with  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  of  the  Court 
of  Bavaria. 

When  I arrived  at  the  White  Cross,  I found  my  nerves, 
usually  proof  to  anything,  so  shaken  and  shattered,  that,  fear- 
ing, with  the  difficult  game  before  me,  any  mistake,  however 
trivial,  might  mar  all  my  fortunes  forever,  I said  a good-night 
to  my  friends,  and  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

A DISCOVERY. 

iC  A note  for  monsieur,”  said  the  waiter,  awaking  me  at 
the  same  time  from  the  soundest  sleep  and  most  delightful 
dream.  The  billet  was  tfyus  : 

“ If  your  excellency  does  not  intend  to  slumber  during  the 
next  twenty-four  hours,  it  might  be  as  well  to  remember  that 
we  are  waiting  breakfast.  Ever  yours, 

“ Kilkee.” 

“ It  is  true,  then,”  said  I — following  up  the  delusion  of  my 
dreams  : “ it  is  true,  I am  really  domesticated  once  more 
with  the  Callonbys.  My  suit  is  prospering,  and  at  length 
the  long-sought,  long-hoped  for  moment  is  come -” 

“ Well,  Harry,”  said  Kilkee,  as  he  dashed  open  the  door. 
“ Well,  Harry,  how  are  you  ? — better  than  last  night,  I 
hope  ? ” 

“ Oh,  yes,  considerably.  In  fact,  I can’t  think  what  could 
have  been  the  matter  with  me  ; but  I felt  confoundedly 
uncomfortable.” 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


456 

“You  did  ! Why,  man,  what  can  you  mean ; was  it  not  a 
joke  ? ” 

“ A joke  ! ” said  I,  with  a start. 

“ Yes,  to  be  sure.  I thought  it  was  only  the  sequel  of  the 
other  humbug.’’  ( 

“ The  sequel  of  the  other  humbug  ! ” Gracious  mercy  ! 
thought  I,  getting  pale  with  horror  ; is  it  thus  he  ventures 
to  designate  my  attachment  to  his  sister? 

“ Come,  come,  it’s  all  over  now.  What  the  devil  could 
have  persuaded  you  to  push  the  thing  so  far  ? ” 

“ Really,  I am  so  completely  in  the  dark  as  to  your  mean 
ing,  that  I only  get  deeper  in  mystery  by  my  chance  replies. 
What  do  you  mean  ? ” 

“ What  do  I mean  ! Why,  the  affair  of  last  night,  of  course. 
All  Munich  is  full  of  it,  and  most  fortunately  for  you,  the 
king  has  taken  it  all  in  the  most  good-humored  way,  and 
laughs  more  than  any  one  else  about  it.” 

Oh,  then,  thought  I,  I must  have  done  or  said  something 
last  night,  during  my  illness,  that  I can’t  remember  now. 
“ Come,  Kilkee,  out  with  it.  What  happened  last  night, 
that  has  served  to  amuse  the  good  people  of  Munich  ? for, 
as  I am  a true  man,  I forgot  all  you  are  alluding  to.” 

“ And  don’t  remember  the  Greek  loan — eh  ? ” 

“ The  Greek  loan  ! ” 

“ And  your  excellency’s  marked  reception  by  his  majesty? 
By  Jove,  though,  it  was  the  rarest  piece  of  impudence  I ever 
heard  of : hoaxing  a crowned  head,  quizzing  one  of  the 
Lord’s  anointed,  is  un  peu  trop  fortP 

“‘if  you  really  do  not  wish  to  render  me  insane  at  once, 
for  the  love  of  mercy  say,  in  plain  terms,  what  all  this 
means.” 

“ Come,  come,  I see  you  are  incorrigible  ; but  as  breakfast 
is  waiting  all  this  time,  we  shall  have  your  explanations 
below  stairs.” 

Before  I had  time  for  another  question,  Kilkee  passed  his 
arm  within  mine,  and  led  me  along  the  corridor,  pouring  out, 
the  entire  time,  a whole  rhapsody  about  the  practical  joke  of 
my  late  illness,  which  he  was  pleased  to  say  would  ring  from 
one  end  of  Europe  to  the  other. 

Lord  Callonby  was  alone  in  the  breakfast-room  when  we 
entered,  and  the  moment  he  perceived  me  called  out : 

“ Eh,  Lorrequer,  you  here  still  ? Why,  man,  I thought 
you’d  have  been  over  the  frontier  early  this  morning.” 


HA RR  Y L ORREQ  UER.  45  7 

€t  Indeed,  my  lord,  I am  not  exactly  aware  of  any  urgent 
reason  for  so  rapid  a flight” 

“ You  are  not ! The  devil,  you  are  not  Why,  you  must 
surely  have  known  his  majesty  to  be  the  best-tempered  man 
in  his  dominions,  then,  or  you  would  never  have  played  off 
such  a ruse,  though,  I must  say,  there  never  was  anything 
better  done.  Heldersteen,  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
is  nearly  deranged  this  morning  about  it — it  seems  that  he 
was  the  first  that  fell  into  the  trap  ; but,  seriously  speaking, 
I think  it  would  be  better  if  you  got  away  from  this  ; the 
king,  it  is  true,  has  behaved  with  the  best  possible  good 
feeling;  but ” 

“ My  lord,  I have  a favor  to  ask — perhaps,  indeed,  in  all 
likelihood  the  last  I shall  ever  ask  of  your  lordship ; it  is  this 
— what  are  you  alluding  to  all  this  while,  and  for  what 
especial  reason  do  you  suggest  my  immediate  departure 
from  Munich  ? ” 

“ Bless  my  heart  and  soul — you  surely  cannot  mean  to 
carry  the  thing  on  any  further — you  never  can  intend  to 
assume  your  ministerial  functions  by  daylight?  ”, 

“ My  what  ? — my  ministerial  functions  ! ” 

“ Oh,  no,  that  were  too  much — even  though  his  majesty 
did  say — that  you  were  the  most  agreeable  diplomate  he  had 
met  for  a long  time.” 

“ I,  a diplomate  ! ” 

“ You,  certainly.  Surely  you  cannot  be  acting  now  ; why, 
gracious  mercy,  Lorrequer ! can  it  be  possible  that  you 
were  not  doing  it  by  design  ? do  you  really  not  know  in 
what  character  you  appeared  last  night  ? ” 

“ If  in  any  other  than  that  of  Harry  Lorrequer,  my  lord,  I 
pledge  my  honor,  I am  ignorant.” 

“ Nor  the  uniform  you  wore,  don’t  you  know  what  it 
meant?” 

“The  tailor  sent  it  to  my  room.” 

“ Why,  man,  by  Jove,  this  will  kill  me,”  said  Lord  Callonby, 
bursting  into  a fit  of  laughter,  in  which  Kilkee,  a hitherto 
silent  spectator  of  our  colloquy,  joined  to  such  an  extent, 
that  I thought  he  would  burst  a blood-vessel.  “ Why,  man, 
you  went  as  the  Charge  d’ Affaires  ! ” 

“ I,  the  Charge  d’ Affaires  ! ” 

“That  you  did,  and  a most  successful  dtbut  you  made 
of  it.” 

While  shame  and  confusion  covered  me  from  head  to  foot 


Barr  y lorrequer. 


4S8 

at  the  absurd  and  ridiculous  blunder  I had  been  guilty  of, 
the  sense  of  the  ridiculous  was  so  strong  in  me,  that  I fell 
upon  a sofa  and  laughed  on  with  the  others  for  full  ten 
minutes. 

“ Your  excellency  is,  I am  rejoiced  to  find,  in  good  spirits  ” 
said  Lady  Callonby,  entering  and  presenting  her  hand. 

■“  He  is  so  glad  to  have  finished  the  Greek  loan/'  said 
Lady  Catherine,  smiling,  with  a half-malicious  twinkle  of  the 
eye.  Just  at  this  instant  another  door  opened,  and  Lady 
Jane  appeared.  Luckily  for  me,  the  increased  mirth  of  the 
party,  as  Lord  Callonby  informed  them  of  my  blunder, 
prevented  their  paying  any  attention  to  me,  for  as  I half 
sprung  forward  toward  her,  my  agitation  would  have  revealed 
to  any  observer  the  whole  state  of  my  feelings.  I took  her 
hand,  which  she  extended  to  me,  without  speaking,  and 
bowing  deeply  over  it,  raised  my  head  and  looked  into  her 
eyes,  as  if  to  read  at  one  glance  my  fate,  and  when  I let  fall 
her  hand,  I would  not  have  exchanged  my  fortune  for  a 
kingdom. 

“You  have  heard,  Jane,  how  our  friend  opened  his  cam- 
paign in  Munich  last  night.” 

“Oh,  I hope,  Mr.  Lorrequer,  they  are  only  quizzing.  You 
surely  could  not ” 

“ Could  not ! What  he  could  not — what  he  would  not  do, 
is  beyond  my  calculation  to  make  out,”  said  Kilkee,  laugh- 
ing ; “ anything  in  life,  from  breaking  an  axle-tree  to  hoaxing 
a king.” 

I turned,  as  may  be  imagined,  a deaf  ear  to  his  allusion, 
which  really  frightened  me,  not  knowing  how  far  Kilkee’s 
information  might  lead,  nor  how  he  might  feel  disposed  to 
use  it.  Lady  Jane  turned  a half -reproachful  glance  at  me, 
as  if  rebuking  my  folly  ; but  the  interest  she  thus  took  in  me 
I would  not  have  bartered  for  the  smile  of  the  proudest 
queen  of  Christendom. 

Breakfast  over,  Lord  Callonby  undertook  to  explain  to  the 
court  the  blunder  by  which  I had  unwittingly  been  betrayed 
into  personating  the  newly-arrived  minister,  and  as  the 
mistake  was  more  of  their  causing  than  my  own,  my  excuses 
were  accepted,  and  when  his  lordship  returned  to  the  hotel, 
he  brought  with  him  an  invitation  for  me  to  dine  at  court  in 
my  own  unaccredited  character.  By  this  time  I had  been 
carrying  on  the  siege  as  briskly  as  circumstances  permitted  ; 
Lady  Callonby  being  deeply  interested  in  her  newly-arrived 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


459 


purchases,  Lady  Catherine  being  good-natured  enough  to 
pretend  to  be  so  also,  left  me  at  intervals  many  opportunities 
of  speaking  to  Lady  Jane. 

As  I feared  that  such  occasions  would  not  often  present 
themselves,  I determined  on  making  the  best  use  of  my  time, 
and  at  once  led  the  conversation  toward  the  goal  I aimed  at, 
by  asking,  “if  Lady  Jane  had  completely  forgotten  the  wild 
cliffs  and  rocky  coast  of  Clare,  amid  the  tall  mountains  and 
glaciered  peaks  of  the  Tyrol  ? ” 

“ Far  from  it,  ” she  replied.  “ I have  a most  clear  remem- 
brance of  bold  Mogher  and  the  rolling  swell  of  the  blue 
Atlantic,  and  long  to  feel  its  spray  once  more  upon  my  cheek ; 
but  then,  I knew  it  in  childhood — your  acquaintance  with  it 
was  of  a later  date,  and  connected  with  fewer  happy  asso- 
ciations.^ 

“ Fewer  happy  associations — how  can  you  say  so  ? Was  it 
not  there  the  brightest  hours  of  my  whole  life  were  passed, 
was  it  not  there  I first  met ” 

“ Kilkee  tells  me,”  said  Lady  Jane,  interrupting  me  shortly, 
“ that  Miss  Bingham  is  extremely  pretty.” 

This  was  turning  my  flank  with  a vengeance  ; so  I mut- 
tered something  about  different  tastes,  etc.,  and  continued, 
“ I understand  my  worthy  cousin  Guy  had  the  good  fortune 
to  make  your  acquaintance  in  Paris.” 

It  was  now  her  turn  to  blush,  which  she  did  deeply,  and 
said  nothing. 

“ He  is  expected,  I believe,  in  a few  days  at  Munich,”  said 
I,  fixing  my  eyes  upon  her,  and  endeavoring  to  read  her 
thoughts ; she  blushed  more  deeply,  and  the  blood  at  my 
own  heart  ran  cold,  as  I thought  over  all  I had  heard,  and  I 
muttered  to  myself,  “ She  loves  him.” 

“ Mr.  Lorrequer,  the  carriage  is  waiting,  and  as  we  are 
going  to  the  Gallery  this  morning,  and  have  much  to  see, 
pray  let  us  have  your  escort.” 

“ Oh,  I am  sure,”  said  Catherine,  “ his  assistance  will  be 
considerable — particularly  if  his  knowledge  of  art  only  equals 
his  tact  in  botany.  Don't  you  think  so,  Jane?”  But  Jane 
was  gone. 

They  left  the  room  to  dress,  and  I was  alone— alone  with 
my  anxious,  now  half-despairing  thoughts,  crowding  and 
rushing  upon  my  beating  brain.  She  loves  him,  and  I have 
only  come  to  witness  her  becoming  the  wife  of  another.  I 
see  it  all,  too  plainly — my  uncle’s  arrival — Lord  Callonby’s 


460 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


familiar  manner— Jane’s  own  confession.  All — all  convince 
me  that  my  fate  is  decided.  Now,  then,  for  one  last  brief 
explanation,  and  I leave  Munich,  never  to  see  her  more. 
Just  as  I had  so  spoken,  she  entered.  Her  gloves  had  been 
forgotten  in  the  room,  and  she  came  in  not  knowing  that  I 
was  there.  What  would  I not  have  given  at  that  moment 
for  the  ready-witted  assurance,  the  easy  self-possession,  with 
which  I should  have  made  my  advances  had  my  heart  not 
been  as  deeply  engaged  as  I now  felt  it.  Alas  ! my  courage 
was  gone  ; there  was  too  much  at  stake,  and  I preferred,  now 
that  the  time  was  come,  any  suspense,  any  vacillation,  to  the 
dreadful  certainty  of  refusal. 

These  were  my  first  thoughts,  as  she  entered ; how  they 
were  followed,  I cannot  say.  The  same  evident  confusion  of 
my  brain,  which  I once  felt  when  mounting  the  breach  in  a 
storm-party,  now  completely  beset  me ; and  as  then,  when 
death  and  destruction  raged  on  every  side,  I held  on  my 
way  regardless  of  every  obstacle,  and  forgetting  all  save  the 
goal  before  me  ; so  did  I now,  in  the  intensity  of  my  excite- 
ment, disregard  everything,  save  the  story  of  my  love,  which 
I poured  forth  with  that  fervor  which  truth  only  can  give. 
But  she  spoke  not — her  averted  head — her  cold  and  trem- 
ulous hand  and  half-drawn  sigh  were  all  that  replied  to  me,  as 
I waited  for  that  one  word  upon  which  hung  all  my  fortune.  At 
length  her  hand,  which  I scarcely  held  within  my  own,  was 
gently  withdrawn.  She  lifted  it  to  her  eyes,  but  still  was 
silent. 

“ Enough,”  said  I,  “ I seek  not  to  pain  you  more.  The 
daring  ambition  that  prompted  me  to  love  you  has  met  its 
heaviest  retribution.  Farewell — you,  Lady  Jane,  have  noth- 
ing to  reproach  yourself  with — you  never  encouraged,  you 
never  deceived  me.  I,  and  I alone,  have  been  to  blame,  and 
mine  must  be  the  suffering.  Adieu,  then,  once  more,  and 
now  forever.” 

She  turned  slowly  round,  and  as  the  handkerchief  fell 
from  her  hand — her  features  were  pale  as  marble — I saw 
that  she  yas  endeavoring  to  speak,  but  could  not;  and 
at  length,  as  the  color  came  slowly  back  to  her  cheek, 
her  lips  moved,  and  just  as  I leaned  forward,  with  a beat- 
ing heart,  to  hear,  her  sister  came  running  forward,  and 
suddenly  checked  herself  in  her  career,  as  she  said,  laugh- 
ingly : 

“ Mille  pardons,  Jane,  but  his  excellency  must  take  another 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER.  46 1 

occasion  to  explain  the  quadruple  alliance,  for  mamma  has 
been  waiting  in  the  carriage  these  ten  minutes.” 

I followed  them  to  the  door,  placed  them  in  the  carriage, 
and  was  turning  again  toward  the  house,  when  Lady  Callonby 
said : 

“ Oh,  Mr.  Lorrequer ! we  count  upon  you — you  must  not 
desert  us.” 

I muttered  something  about  not  feeling  well. 

u And  then,  perhaps,  the  Greek  loan  is  engaging  your 
attention,”  said  Catherine  ; “ or,  mayhap,  some  reciprocity  is 
not  prospering.” 

The  malice  of  this  last  sally  told,  for  Jane  blushed  deeply, 
and  I felt  overwhelmed  with  confusion. 

“ But  pray  come — the  drive  will  do  you  good.” 

“ Your  ladyship  will,  I am  certain,  excuse ” 

Just  as  I had  got  so  far,  I caught  Lady  Jane’s  eye  for  the 
first  time  since  we  had  left  the  drawing-room.  What  I read 
there  I could  not  for  the  life  of  me  say ; but,  instead  of 
finishing  my  sentence,  I got  into  the  carriage  and  drove  off 
very  much  to  the  surprise  of  Lady  Callonby,  who,  never 
having  studied  magnetism,  knew  very  little  the  cause  of  my 
sudden  recovery. 

The  thrill  of  hope  that  shot  through  my  heart,  succeeding 
so  rapidly  the  dark  gloom  of  my  despairing  thoughts, 
buoyed  me  up,  and  while  I whispered  to  myself,  “ All  may 
not  yet  be  lost,”  I summoned  my  best  energies  to  my  aid. 
Luckily  for  me,  I was  better  qualified  to  act  as  cicerone  in  a 
gallery  than  as  a guide  in  a green-house;  and  with  the 
confidence  that  knowledge  of  a subject  ever  inspires,  I rattled 
away  about  art  and  artists,  greatly  to  the  edification  of  Lady 
Callonby — much  to  the  surprise  of  Lady  Catherine — and 
better  than  all,  evidently  to  the  satisfaction  of  her,  to  win 
whose  praise  I would  gladly  have  risked  my  life. 

“ There,”  said  I as  I placed  my  fair  friend  before  a deli- 
cious little  madonna  of  Carlo  Dolci — “ there  is,  perhaps,  the 
triumph  of  coloring — for  the  downy  softness  of  that  cheek 
— the  luscious  depth  of  that  blue  eye — the  waving  richness 
of  those  sunny  locks,  all  is  perfect — fortunately,  so  beautiful 
a head  is  not  a monopoly,  for  he  painted  many  copies  of  this 
picture.” 

“ Quite  true,”  said  a voice  behind,  “ and  mine  at  Elton  is, 
I think,  if  anything,  better  than  this.” 

I turned,  and  beheld  my  good  uncle,  Sir  Guy,  who  was 


462 


HARRY  LORREQJRR. 


standing  beside  Lady  Callonby.  While  I welcomed  my 
worthy  relative,  I could  not  help  casting  a glance  around  to 
see  if  Guy  were  also  there,  and  not  perceiving  him,  my  heart 
beat  freely  again. 

My  uncle,  it  appeared,  had  just  arrived,  and  lost  no  time 
in  joining  us  at  the  Gallery.  His  manner  to  me  was  cordial 
to  a degree,  and  I perceived  that,  immediately  upon  being 
introduced  to  Lady  Jane,  he  took  considerable  pains  to  ob- 
serve her,  and  paid  her  the  most  marked  attention. 

The  first  moment  I could  steal  unnoticed,  I took  the 
opportunity  of  asking  if  Guy  were  come.  That  one  fact 
were  to  me  all,  and  upon  the  answer  to  my  question  I hung 
with  deep  anxiety. 

“ Guy  here ! — no,  not  yet.  The  fact  is,  Harry,  my  boy, 
Guy  has  not  got  on  here  as  well  as  I could  have  wished. 
Everything  had  been  arranged  among  us — Callonby  behaved 
most  handsomely — and,  as  far  as  regarded  myself,  I threw 
no  impediment  in  the  way.  But,  still,  I don’t  know  how  it 
was,  but  Guy  did  not  advance,  and  the  matter  now ” 

“ Pray,  howT  does  it  stand  ? Have  you  any  hopes  to  put 
all  to  rights  again  ? ” 

“ Yes,  Harry,  I think,  with  your  assistance,  much  may  be 
done.” 

“ Oh,  count  upon  me,  by  all  means,”  said  I,  with  a sneer- 
ing bitterness,  that  my  uncle  could  not  have  escaped  remark- 
ing, had  his  attention  not  been  drawn  off  by  Lady  Callonby.* 

What  have  I done — what  sin  did  I meditate  before  I was 
born,  that  I should  come  into  the  world  branded  with  failure 
in  all  I attempt  ? Is  it  not  enough  that  my  cousin,  my  elder 
by  some  months,  should  be  rich,  while  I am  poor — honored 
and  titled,  while  I am  unknown  and  unnoticed  ? — but  is  he 
also  to  be  preferred  to  me  in  every  station  in  life  ? Is  there 
no  feeling  of  the  heart  so  sacred  that  it  must  not  succumb 
to  primogeniture  ? 

“ What  a dear  old  man  Sir  Guy  is,”  said  Catherine,  inter- 
rupting my  sad  reflections,  “ and  how  gallant ; he  is  abso- 
lutely flirting  with  Lady  Jane.” 

And  quite  true  it  was.  The  old  gentleman  was  paying 
his  devoirs  with  a studied  anxiety  to  please  that  went  to 
my  very  heart  as  I witnessed  it.  The  remainder  of  that  day 
to  me  was  a painful  and  suffering  one.  My  intention  of 
suddenly  leaving  Munich  had  been  abandoned,  why,  I knew 
not.  I felt  that  I was  hoping  against  hope,  and  that  my 


HARR  Y L ORREQ  UER . 


463 

stay  was  only  to  confirm,  by  the  most  “ damning  proof,” 
how  sure  I was  fated  to  disappointment.  My  reasonings  all 
ended  in  one  point.  If  she  really  loved  Guy,  then  my  pres- 
ent attention  can  only  be  a source  of  unhappiness  to  her  ; 
if  she  do  not,  is  there  any  prospect  that  from  the  bare  fact 
of  my  attachment,  so  proud  a family  as  the  Callonbys  will 
suffer  their  daughter  to  make  a mere  “ mariage  d’inclination  ? ” 

There  was  but  one  answer  to  this  question,  and  I had  at 
last  the  courage  to  make  it ; and  yet  the  Callonbys  had 
marked  me  out  for  their  attentions,  and  had  gone  unusually 
out  of  their  way  to  inflict  injury  upon  me,  if  all  were  meant 
to  end  in  nothing.  If  I only  could  bring  myself  to  think 
that  this  was  a systematic  game  adopted  by  them,  to  lead  to 
khe  subsequent  arrangement  with  my  cousin  ! — if  I could  but 
satisfy  my  doubts  on  this  head What  threats  of  ven- 

geance I muttered,  I cannot  remember,  for  I was  summoned 
at  that  critical  moment  to  attend  the  party  to  the  palace. 

The  state  of  excitement  I was  in  was  an  ill  preparative  for 
the  rigid  etiquette  of  a court  dinner.  All  passed  off,  how- 
ever, happily,  and  the  king,  by  a most  good-natured  allusion 
to  the  blunder  of  the  night  before,  set  me  perfectly  at  ease 
on  that  head. 

I was  placed  next  to  Lady  Jane  at  dinner ; and  half  from 
wounded  pride,  half  from  the  momentarily  increasing  con- 
viction that  all  was  lost,  chattered  away  gayly,  without  any 
evidence  of  a stronger  feeling  than  the  mere  vicinity  of  a 
pretty  person  is  sure  to  inspire.  What  success  this  game 
was  attended  with  I know  not ; but  the  suffering  it  cost  me 
I shall  never  cease  to  remember.  One  satisfaction  I cer- 
tainly did  experience — she  was  manifestly  piqued,  and  sev- 
eral times  turned  toward  the  person  on  the  other  side  of 
her,  to  avoid  the  tone  of  indifference  in  which  I discussed 
matters  that  were  actually  wringing  my  own  heart  at  the  mo- 
ment. Yet  such  was  the  bitterness  of  my  spirit,  that  I set 
down  this  conduct  on  her  part  as  coquetry ; and  quite  con- 
vinced myself  that  any  slight  encouragement  she  might  ever 
have  given  my  attentions  was  only  meant,  to  indulge  a spirit 
of  vanity,  by  adding  another  to  the  list  of  her  conquests. 

As  the  feeling  grew  upon  me,  I suppose  my  manner  to 
her  became  more  palpably  cutting,  for  it  ended  at  last  in  our 
discontinuing  to  speak,  and  when  we  retired  from  the  palace, 
I accompanied  her  to  the  carriage  in  silence,  and  wished 
her  a cold  and  distant  good-night,  without  any  advance  to 


464  HARR  Y LORREQUER. 

touch  her  hand  at  parting — and  yet  that  parting  1 had  des< 
tined  for  our  last. 

The  greater  part  of  that  night  I spent  in  writing  letters. 
One  was  to  Jane  herself,  owning  my  affection,  confessing 
that  even  the  “ rudesse  ” of  my  late  conduct  was  the  fruit  of 
it,  and  finally  assuring  her  that,  failing  to  win  from  her  any 
return  of  my  passion,  I had  resolved  never  to  meet  her  more. 
I also  wrote  a short  note  to  my  uncle,  thanking  him  for  all 
he  had  formerly  done  in  my  behalf,  but  coldly  declining  for 
the  future  any  assistance  upon  his  part,  resolving  that  upon 
my  own  efforts  alone  should  I now  rest  my  fortunes.  To 
Lord  Callonby  I wrote  at  greater  length,  recapitulating  the 
history  of  our  early  intimacy,  and  accusing  him  of  encourag- 
ing me  in  expectations  which,  as  he  never  intended  to  con- 
firm them,  were  fated  to  prove  my  ruin.  More — much  more 
I said,  which  to  avow  I should  gladly  shrink  from,  were  it 
not  that  I had  pledged  myself  to  honesty  in  these  “ Confes- 
sions,and  as  they  depict  the  bitterness  and  misery  of  my 
spirit,  I must  plead  guilty  to  them  here.  In  a word,  I felt 
myself  injured.  I saw  no  outlet  for  redress,  and  the  only 
consolation  open  to  my  wounded  pride  and  crushed  affec- 
tions was  to  show  that  if  I felt  myself  a victim,  at  least  I 
was  not  a dupe.  I set  about  packing  up  for  the  journey, 
whither  I knew  not.  My  leave  was  nearly  expired,  yet 
I could  not  bear  the  thought  of  rejoining  the  regiment. 
My  only  desire  was  to  leave  Munich,  and  that  speedily. 
When  all  my  arrangements  were  completed,  I went  down 
noiselessly  to  the  inn-yard  to  order  post-horses  by  day- 
break ; there,  to  my  surprise,  I found  all  activity  and  bustle. 
Though  so  late  at  night,  a courier  had  arrived  from  England 
for  Lord  Callonby  with  some  important  dispatches  from  the 
government ; this  would,  at  any  other  time,  have  interested 
me  deeply,  now  I heard  the  news  without  a particle  of  feeling, 
and  I made  all  the  necessary  dispositions  for  my  journey 
without  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  what  was  going  on 
about  me.  I had  just  finished,  when  Lord  Callonby’s  valet 
came  to  say  that  his  lordship  wished  to  see  me  immediately 
in  his  dressing-room.  Though  I would  gladly  have  declined 
any  further  interview,  I saw  no  means  of  escape,  and  fol- 
lowed the  servant  to  his  lordship’s  room. 

There  I found  Lord  Callonby  in  his  dressing-gown  and 
night-cap,  surrounded  by  papers,  letters,  dispatch-boxes,  and 
red  tape-tied  parcels,  that  all  bespoke  business. 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


465 

16  Lorrequer,  sit  down,  my  boy,  I have  much  to  say  to  you, 
and,  as  we  have  no  time  to  lose,  you  must  forego  a little 
sleep.  Is  the  door  closed  ? I have  just  received  most  im- 
portant news  from  England,  and  to  begin — 

“ * My  Lord, — They  are  out  at  last — the  majority  on 
Friday  increased  to  forty  yesterday  evening,  when  they  re- 
signed ; the  Duke  has,  meanwhile,  assumed  the  reins  till 
further  arrangements  can  be  perfected,  and  dispatches  are 
now  preparing  to  bring  all  our  friends  about  us.  The  only 

rumors  as  yet  are,  L for  the  Colonies,  H to  the 

Foreign  Office,  W President  of  the  Council,  and  we  anx- 

iously hope  yourself  Viceroy  to  Ireland.  In  any  case  lose 
no  time  in  coming  back  to  England.  The  struggle  will  be  a 
sharp  one,  as  the  outs  are  distracted,  and  we  shall  want  you 
much.  Ever  yours,  my  dear  lord,  Henry 

“ This  is  much  sooner  than  I looked  for,  Lorrequer,  per- 
haps almost  than  I wished  ; but  as  it  has  taken  place,  we  must 
not  decline  the  battle  ; now  what  I wanted  with  you  is  this 
— if  I go  to  Ireland,  I should  like  your  acceptance  of  the 
Private  Secretary’s  Office.  Come,  come,  no  objections  ; you 
know  that  you  need  not  leave  the  army,  you  can  become 
unattached,  I’ll  arrange  all  that;  apropos , this  concerns  you; 
it  is  from  the  Horse  Guards  ; you  need  not  read  it  now  though ; 
it  is  merely  your  gazette  to  the  company;  your  promo- 
tion, however,  shall  not  stop  here  ; however,  the  important 
thing  I want  with  you  is  this,  I wish  you  to  start  for  England 
to-morrow  ; circumstances  prevent  my  going  from  this  for  a 

few  days.  You  can  see  L and  W , etc.,  and  explain 

all  I have  to  say ; I shall  write  a few  letters,  and  some  hints 
for  your  own  guidance,  and  as  Kilkee  never  would  have  head 
for  these  matters,  I look  to  your  friendship  to  do  it  for  me.” 

Looking  only  to  the  past,  as  the  proposal  suited  my  al- 
ready made  resolve  to  quit  Munich,  I acceded  at  once,  and 
assured  Lord  Callonby  that  I should  be  ready  in  an  hour. 

“ Quite  right,  Lorrequer,  but  still  I shall  not  need  this  ; you 
cannot  leave  before  eleven  or  twelve  o’clock  ; in  fact,  I have 
another  service  to  exact  at  your  hands  before  we  part  with 
you  ; meanwhile,  try  and  get  some  sleep  ; you  are  not  likely 
to  know  anything  of  a bed  before  you  reach  the  Clarendon.” 
So  saying,  he  hurried  me  from  the  room,  and  as  he  closed 
the  door  I heard  him  muttering  his  satisfaction,  that  already 
so  far  all  had  been  well  arranged.  % 

39 


M 


HARR  V LORREQUER . 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Sleep  came  on  me  without  my  feeling  it,  and,  amid  all  the 
distracting  cares  and  pressing  thoughts  that  embarrassed  me, 
I only  awoke  when  the  roll  of  the  caleche  sounded  beneath 
my  window  and  warned  me  that  I must  be  stirring  and  ready 
for  the  road. 

Since  it  is  to  be  thus,  thought  I,  it  is  much  better  that  this 
opportunity  should  occur  of  my  getting  away  at  once,  and 
thus  obviate  all  the  unpleasantness  of  my  future  meeting 
with  Lady  Jane  ; and  the  thousand  conjectures  that  my  de- 
parture, so  sudden  and  unannounced,  might  give  rise  to.  So 
be  it,  and  I have  now  only  one  hope  more — that  the  terms  we 
last  parted  on  may  prevent  her  appearing  at  the  breakfast 
table.  With  these  words  I entered  the  room,  where  the  Cal- 
lonbys  were  assembled,  all  save  Lady  Jane. 

“ This  is  too  provoking,  really,  Mr.  Lorrequer,”  said  Lady 
Callonby,  with  her  sweetest  smile  and  most  civil  manner, 
“ quite  too  bad  to  lose  you,  now  that  you  have  just  joined 
us.” 

“ Come,  no  tampering  with  our  party,”  said  Lord  Cal- 
lonby ; “ my  friend  here  must  not  be  seduced  by  honeyed 
words  and  soft  speeches  from  the  high  road  that  leads  to 
honors  and  distinctions — now  for  your  instructions.”  Here 
his  lordship  entered  into  a very  deep  discussion  as  to  the 
conditions  upon  which  his  support  might  be  expected  and 
relied  upon,  which  Kilkee  from  time  to  time  interrupted  by 
certain  quizzing  allusions  to  the  low  price  he  put  upon  his 
services,  and  suggested  that  a mission  for  myself  should  cer- 
tainly enter  into  the  compact. 

At  length  breakfast  was  over,  and  Lord  Callonby  said, 
“Now  make  your  adieux,  and  let  me  see  you  for  a moment 
in  Sir  Guy’s  room  ; we  have  a little  discussion  there,  in  which 
your  assistance  is  wanting.”  I accordingly  took  my  farewell 
of  Lady  Callonby,  and  approached  to  do  so  to  Lady  Jane  ; but, 


HARRY  LORREQU&R. 


467 

much  to  my  surprise,  she  made  me  a very  distant  salute,  ancr 
said  in  her  coldest  tone,  “ I hope  you  may  have  a pleasant 
journey.”  Before  I had  recovered  from  my  surprise  at  this 
movement,  Kilkee  came  forward  and  offered  to  accompany 
me  a few  miles  of  the  road.  I accepted  readily  the  kind  offer, 
and  once  more  bowing  to  the  ladies,  withdrew.  And  thus  it 
is,  thought  I,  that  I leave  all  my  long-dreamed-of  happiness, 
and  such  is  the  end  of  many  a long  day’s  ardent  expectation. 
When  I entered  my  uncle’s  room,  my  temper  was  certainly 
not  in  the  mood  most  fit  for  further  trials,  though  it  was 
doomed  to  meet  them. 

“ Harry,  my  boy,  we  are  in  great  want  of  you  here,  and  as 
time  presses,  we  must  state  our  case  very  briefly.  You  are 
aware,  Sir  Guy  tells  me,  that  your  cousin  Guy  has  been  re- 
ceived^among  us  as  the  suitor  of  my  eldest  daughter.  It  has 
been  an  old  compact  between  us  to  unite  our  families  by  ties 
still  stronger  than  our  very  ancient  friendship,  and  this  match 
has  been  accordingly  looked  to,  by  us  both,  with  much 
anxiety.  Now,  although,  on  our  parts,  I think  no  obstacle 
intervenes,  yet  I am  sorry  to  say  there  appear  difficulties  in 
other  quarters.  In  fact,  certain  stories  have  reached  Lady 
Jane’s  ears  concerning  your  cousin,  which  have  greatly  pre- 
judiced her  against  him,  and  we  have  reason  to  think  most 
unfairly ; for  we  have  succeeded  in  tracing  some  of  the  of- 
fences in  question,  not  to  Guy,  but  to  a Mr.  Morewood,  who 
it  seems  has  personated  your  cousin  upon  more  than  one 
occasion,  and  not  a little  to  his  disadvantage.  Now  we  wish 
you  to  sift  these  matters  to  the  bottom,  by  your  going  to 
Paris  as  soon  as  you  can  venture  to  leave  London — find  out 
this  man,  and,  if  possible,  make  all  straight  ; if  money  is 
wanting,  he  must  of  course  have  it  ; but  bear  one  thing  in 
mind,  that  any  possible  step  which  may  remove  this  unhappy 
impression  from  my  daughter’s  mind  will  be  of  infinite 
service,  and  never  forgotten  by  us.  Kilkee,  too,  has  taken 
some  dislike  to  Guy.  You  have  only,  however,  to  talk  to 
him  on  the  matter,  and  he  is  sure  to  pay  attention  to  you.” 

“ And,  Harry,”  said  my  uncle,  “ tell  Guy  I am  much  dis- 
pleased that  he  is  not  here ; I expected  him  to  leave  Paris 
with  me,  but  some  absurd  wager  at  the  Jockey  Club  detained 
him.” 

“ Another  thing,  Harry,  you  may  as  well  mention  to  your 
cousin,  that  Sir  Guy  has  complied  with  every  suggestion  that 
he  formerly  threw  out — he  will  understand  the  allusion,” 


468 


HARRY  L ORREQ UER. 


“ Oh,  yes,”  said  my  uncle,  “ tell  him  roundly  he  shall  have 
Elton  Hall ; I have  fitted  up  Marsden  for  myself ; so  n<l 
difficulty  lies  in  that  quarter.” 

“ You  may  add,  if  you  like,  that  my  present  position  with 
the  government  enables  me  to  offer  him  a speedy  prospect 
of  a regiment,  and  that  I think  he  had  better  not  leave  the 
army.” 

“ And  say  that  by  next  post  Hamercloth’s  bond  for  thq 
six  thousand  shall  be  paid  off,  and  let  him  send  me  a note  of 
any  other  large  sum  he  owes.” 

“ And  above  all  things  no  more  delays.  I must  leave  this 
for  England  inevitably,  and  as  the  ladies  will  probably  prefer 
wintering  in  Italy ” 

“ Oh,  certainly,”  said  my  uncle,  “ the  wedding  must  take 
place.”  * 

“ I scarcely  can  ask  you  to  come  to  us  on  the  occasion, 
though  I need  not  say  how  greatly  we  should  all  feel  gratified 
if  you  could  do  so,”  said  my  lord. 

While  this  cross  fire  went  on  from  both  sides,  I looked 
from  one  to  the  other  of  the  speakers.  My  first  impression 
being,  that,  having  perceived  and  disliked  my  attention  to 
Lady  Jane,  they  adopted  this  “ mauvaise  plaisanterie  ” as  a 
kind  of  smart  lesson  for  my  guidance.  My  next  impression 
was  that  they  were  really  in  earnest,  but  about  the  very 
stupidest  pair  of  old  gentlemen  that  ever  wore  hair  powder. 

“ And  this  is  all  ? ” said  I,  drawing  a long  breath  and  in- 
wardly uttering  a short  prayer  for  patience. 

“ Why,  I believe  I have  mentioned  everything,”  said  Lord 
Callonby,  “ except  that  if  anything  occurs  to  yourself  that 
offers  a prospect  of  forwarding  this  affair,  we  leave  you  a 
carte  blanche  to  adopt  it.” 

“ Of  course,  then,”  said  I,  “ I am  to  understand  that  as  no 
other  difficulties  lie  in  the  way  than  those  your  lordship  has 
mentioned,  the  feelings  of  the  parties,  their  affections,  are 
mutual.” 

“ Oh,  of  course,  your  cousin,  I suppose,  has  made  himself 
agreeable ; he  is  a good-looking  fellow,  and,  in  fact,  I am 
not  aware  why  they  should  not  like  each  other,  eh,  Sir 
Guy  ? ” 

“ To  be  sure,  and  the  Elton  estates  run  half  the  shire  with 
your  Gloucester  property ; never  was  there  a more  suitable 
match.” 

“ Then  only  one  point  remains,  and  that  being  complied 


HARRY  LORREQUER . 


469 

with,  you  may  reckon  upon  my  services  ; nay,  more,  I promise 
you  success.  Lady  Jane’s  own  consent  must  be  previously 
assured  to  me  ; without  this,  I most  positively  decline  moving 
a step  in  the  matter;  and  that  once  obtained,  freely  and 
without  constraint,  I pledge  myself  to  do  all  you  require.” 

“ Quite  fair,  Harry  ; I perfectly  approve  of  your  scruples;” 
so  saying,  his  lordship  rose  and  left  the  room. 

“ Well,  Harry,  and  yourself,  what  is  to  be  done  for  you  ? 
Has  Callonby  offered  you  anything  yet  ? ” 

“Yes,  sir,  his  lordship  has  most  kindly  offered  me  the 
under  secretaryship  in  Ireland,  but  I have  resolved  on  de- 
clining it,  though  I shall  not  at  present  say  so,  lest  he  should 
feel  any  delicacy  in  employing  me  upon  the  present  occasion.” 

“ Why,  is  the  boy  deranged — decline  it — what  have  you  got 
in  the  world  that  you  should  refuse  such  an  appointment  ?” 

The  color  mounted  to  my  cheeks,  my  temples  burned,  and 
what  I should  have  replied  to  this  taunt  I know  not,  for 
passion  had  completely  mastered  me.  When  Lord  Callonby 
again  entered  the  room,  his  usually  calm  and  pale  face  was 
agitated  and  flushed,  and  his  manner  tremulous  and  hurried  ; 
for  an  instant  he  was  silent,  and  then  turning  toward  my 
uncle,  he  took  his  hand  affectionately,  and  said  : 

“ My  good  old  friend,  I am  deeply,  deeply  grieved ; but 
we  must  abandon  this  scheme.  I have  just  seen  my  daughter, 
and  from  the  few  words  which  we  have  had  together,  I find 
that  her  dislike  to  the  match  is  invincible,  and,  in  fact,  she  has 
obtained  my  promise  never  again  to  allude  to  it.  If  I were 
willing  to  constrain  the  feelings  of  my  child,  you  yourself 
would  not  permit  it.  So  here  let  us  forget  that  we  ever 
hoped  for,  ever  calculated  on  a plan  in  which  both  our  hearts 
were  so  deeply  interested.” 

These  words,  few  as  they  were,  were  spoken  with  deep 
feeling,  and,  for  the  first  time,  I looked  upon  the  speaker 
with  sincere  regard.  They  were  both  silent  for  some  minutes  ; 
Sir  Guy,  who  was  himself  much  agitated,  spoke  first : 

“ So  be  it  then,  Callonby,  and  thus  do  I relinquish  one — 
perhaps  the  only  cheering  prospect  my  advanced  age  held 
out  to  me.  I have  long  wished  to  have  your  daughter  for 
my  niece,  and  since  I have  known  her  the  wish  has  increased 
tenfold.” 

“ It  was  the  chosen  dream  of  all  my  anticipations,”  said 

Lord  Callonby and  now  Jane’s  affections  only But 

let  it  pass.” 


470 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


“ And  is  there,  then,  really  no  remedy ; can  nothing  be 
struck  out  ? ” 

“ Nothing/’ 

“ I am  not  quite  so  sure,  my  lord,”  said  I,  tremulously. 

“ No,  no,  Lorrequer,  you  are  a ready-witted  fellow,  I know, 
but  this  passes  even  your  ingenuity ; besides,  I have  given 
her  my  word.” 

“ Even  so.” 

“Why,  what  do  you  mean?  Speak  out,  man,”  said  Sir 
Guy.  “ I’ll  give  you  ten  thousand  pounds  on  the  spot  if 
you’ll  suggest  a means  of  overcoming  this  difficulty.” 

“ Perhaps  you  might  not  accede  afterward.” 

“ I pledge  myself  to  it.” 

“ And  I too,”  said  Lord  Callonby,  “ if  no  unfair  stratagem 
be  resorted  to  toward  my  daughter.  If  she  only  give  her  free 
and  willing  consent,  I agree.” 

“ Then  you  must  bid  higher,  uncle ; ten  thousand  won’t 
do,  for  the  bargain  is  well  worth  the  money.” 

“Name  your  price,  boy,  and  keep  your  word.” 

“ Agreed,  then ; holding  my  uncle  to  his  promise,  I pledge 
myself  that  his  nephew  shall  be  the  husband  of  Lady  Jane 
Callonby;  and  now,  my  lord,  read  Harry,  vice  Guy,  in  the 
contract,  and  I am  certain  my  uncle  is  too  faithful  to  his 
plighted  word,  and  too  true  to  his  promise  not  to  say  it  shall 
be.” 

The  suddenness  of  this  rash  declaration  absolutely  stunned 
them  both,  and  then,  recovering  at  the  same  moment,  their 
eyes  met. 

“ Fairly  caught,  Guy,”  said  Lord  Callonby,  “ a bold  stroke, 
if  it  only  succeeds.” 

“ And  it  shall,  by  G — ,”  said  my  uncle.  “ Elton  is  yours, 
Harry ; and  with  seven  thousand  a year,  and  my  nephew  to 
boot,  Callonby  won’t  refuse  you.” 

There  are  moments  in  life  in  which  conviction  will  follow 
a bold  “ coup  de  main,”  that  never  would  have  ensued  from 
the  slow  process  of  reasoning.  Luckily  for  me,  this  was  one 
of  those  happy  intervals.  Lord  Callonby,  catching  my  uncle’s 
enthusiasm,  seized  me  by  the  hand  and  said : 

“ With  her  consent,  Lorrequer,  you  may  count  upon  mine, 
and,  faith,  if  truth  must  be  told,  I always  preferred  you  to 
the  other.” 

What  my  uncle  added,  I waited  not  to  listen  to  ; but  with 
one  bound  sprung  from  the  room — dashed  upstairs  to  Lady 


HARRY  L ORREQ UER. 


471 


Callonby’s  drawing-room — looked  rapidly  round  to  see  if 
she  were  there,  and  then,  without  paying  the  slightest  atten- 
tion to  the  question  of  Lady  Callonby  and  her  youngest 
daughter,  was  turning  to  leave  the  room,  when  my  eyes  caught 
the  flutter  of  a Cashmere  shawl  in  the  garden  beneath.  In 
an  instant  the  window  was  torn  open — I stood  upon  the  sill, 
and  though  the  fall  was  some  twenty  feet,  with  one  spring  I 
took  it,  and  before  the  ladies  had  recovered  from  their  first 
surprise  at  my  unaccountable  conduct,  put  the  finishing 
stroke  to  their  amazement,  by  throwing  my  arms  around 
Lady  Jane,  and  clasping  her  to  my  heart. 

I cannot  remember  by  what  pr.^.cs  I explained  the  change 
that  had  taken  place  in  my  fortunes.  I had  some  very  vague 
recollection  of  vows  of  eternal  love  being  mingled  with 
praises  of  my  worthy  uncle,  and  the  state  of  my  affections  and 
finances  were  jumbled  up  together,  but  still  sufficiently  intel- 
ligible to  satisfy  my  beloved  Jane — that,  this  time,  at  least, 
I made  love  with  something  more  than  my  own  consent  to 
support  me.  Before  we  had  walked  half  round  the  garden, 
she  had  promised  to  be  mine  ; and  Harry  Lorrequer,  who 
rose  that  morning  with  nothing  but  despair  and  darkness 
before  him,  was  now  the  happiest  of  men. 

Dear  reader,  I have  little  more  to  confess.  Lord  Callonby’s 
politics  were  fortunately  deemed  of  more  moment  than 
maideniy  scruples,  and  the  Treasury  benches  more  respected 
than  the  trousseau.  Our  wedding  was  therefore  settled  for 
the  following  week.  Meanwhile  every  day  seemed  to  teem 
with  its  own  meed  of  good  fortune.  My  good  uncle,  under 
whose  patronage,  forty  odd  years  before,  Colonel  Kamworth 
had  obtained  his  commission,  undertook  to  effect  the  recon- 
ciliation between  him  and  the  Wallers,  who  now  only  waited 
for  our  wedding,  before  they  set  out  for  Hydrabad  Cottage, 
that  snug  receptacle  of  Curry  and  Madeira,  Jack  confessing 
that  he  had  rather  listen  to  the  siege  of  Java,  by  that  fire- 
side, than  hear  an  account  of  Waterloo  from  the  lips  of  the 
great  duke  himself. 

I wrote  to  Trevanion  to  invite  him  over  to  Munich  for  the 
ceremony,  and  the  same  post  which  informed  me  that  he 
was  en  route  to  join  us,  brought  also  a letter  from  my  eccentric 
friend  O'Leary,  whose  name  having  so  often  occurred  in  these 
Confessions,  I am  tempted  to  read  it  aloud,  the  more  so  as 
its  contents  are  no  secret,  Kilkee  having  insisted  upon  read- 
ing it  to  a committee  of  the  whole  family  assembled  after 
dinner. 


472 


HARR  Y LORREQ UER. 


“ Dear  Lorrequer,-— ' The  trial  is  over,  and  I am  acquitted, 
but  still  in  St.  Pdlagie ; for,  as  the  government  were  determined 
to  cut  my  head  off  if  guilty,  so  the  mob  resolved  to  murder 
me  if  innocent.  A pleasant  place  this  ; before  the  trial  I 
was  the  most  popular  man  in  Paris  ; my  face  was  in  every 
print  shop  ; plaster  busts  of  me,  with  a great  organ  behind 
the  ear,  in  all  the  thoroughfares  ; my  autograph  selling  at  six- 
and-twenty  sous,  and  a lock  of  my  hair  at  five  francs.  Now 
that  it  is  proved  I did  not  murder  the  6 minister  at  war  ’ 
(who  is  in  excellent  health  and  spirits),  the  popular  feeling 
against  me  is  very  violent,  and  I am  looked  upon  as  an  im- 
postor who  obtained  his  notoriety  under  false  pretences  ; and 
Vernet,  who  had  begun  my  picture  for  a Judas,  has  left  off 
in  disgust.  Your  friend  Trevanion  is  a trump  ; he  procured 
a Tipperary  gentleman  to  run  away  with  Mrs.  Ram,  and  they 
were  married  at  Frankfort,  on  Tuesday  last.  By  the  by, 
what  an  escape  you  had  of  Emily ; she  was  only  quizzing 
you  all  the  time.  She  is  engaged  to  be  married  to  Tom 
O’Flaherty,  who  is  here  now.  Emily’s  imitation  of  you,  with 
the  hat  on  one  side  and  a handkerchief  flourishing  away  in 
one  hand,  is  capital ; but  when  she  kneels  down  and  says, 
4 Dearest  Emily,’  etc.,  you’d  swear  it  was  yourself.”  [Here 
the  laughter  of  the  auditory  prevented  Kilkee’s  proceedihg, 
who,  to  my  utter  confusion,  resumed  after  a little.]  “ Don’t 
be  losing  your  time  making  up  to  Lord  Callonby’s  daughter 
— (here  came  another  burst  of  laughter) — they  say  here  you 
have  not  a chance,  and,  moreover,  she’s  a downright  flirt.” 
[“  It  is  your  turn  now,  Jane,”  said  Kilkee,  scarcely  able  to 
proceed.]  “ Besides  that,  her  father’s  a pompous  old  Tory, 
that  won’t  give  a sixpence  with  her ; and  the  old  curmudgeon, 
your  uncle,  has  as  much  idea  of  providing  for  you  as  he  has 
of  dying.”  [This  last  sally  absolutely  convulsed  all  parties.] 
44  To  be  sure  Kilkee’s  a fool,  but  he’s  no  use  to  you.”  [“  Begad, 
I thought  I was  going  to  escape,”  said  the  individual  alluded 
to,  “ but  your  friend  O’Leary  cuts  on  every  side  of  him.”] 
The  letter,  after  some  very  grave  reflections  upon  the  hope- 
lessness of  my  pursuit,  concluded  with  a kind  pledge  to  meet 
me  soon,  and  become  my  travelling  companion.  44  Mean- 
while,” added  he,  “ I must  cross  over  to  London  and  look 
after  my  new  work,  which  is  to  come  out  soon,  under  the 
title  of  4 The  Loiterings  of  Arthur  O’Leary.’  ” 

This  elegant  epistle  formed  the  subject  of  much,  laughtet 


HARRY  LORREQUER. 


473 


and  conversation  amongst  us  long  after  it  was  concluded  ; 
and  little  triumph  could  be  claimed  by  any  party,  where 
nearly  all  were  so  roughly  handled.  So  passed  the  last 
evening  I spent  in  Munich — the  next  morning  I was 
married. 


THE  END. 


* 


L , j 

N ; 


